;!L.a7.  io 


^  PRINCETON.  N.  J.  ^ 

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DiwijimK- 


BX  rc^r  .B2e  A3  1874 
Barker.  ::Eeph,  1806-1875 
Modern  skepticism 


MODERN  SKEPTICISM: 


JOURNEY  THROUGH  THE  LAND  OF  DOUBT 
AND  BACK  AGAIN. 


A  LIFE  STORY 


[*      DEC  27  1910 


JOSEPH  BARKER. 


^e/c 


.Mil 


^vS 


PHILADELPHIA : 
SMilTH,    EI^G-LISH    &    CO, 

1874. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  187-i,  by 

REV.  JOSEPH  BARKER, 

In  the  ofiBce  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


Jas.  B.  Rodgers  Co., 

Printers  and  Stereotypers, 

Philadelphia. 


CONTENTS. 


Pkeface „ 7 

CHAPTER  I. 
Introduction.— My  early  life.— Enter  the  Church.— The  Ministry.— Happy  days. — 
Sad  change. — How  happened  it? 17 

CHAPTER  II. 
Causes  of  unbelief. — Vice. — Other  causes. — Constitutional  tendencies  to  doubt. 
— Disappointed  expectations  about  Cliristianity. — Mysteries  of  Providence. — 
Misrepresentations  of  Christ  and  Christianity  in  human  creeds.— Church  divi- 
sions.— Ignorant  advocates  of  Christianity. — Wrong  principles  of  reasoning. — 
False  science, 19 

CHAPTER  III. 
Another  cause  of  unbelief. — Bad  feeling  between  ministers  or  among  church 
members. — Alienates  them    from    each    other. — Then    separates    them    from 
the  Church. — Then  from  Christ. — How  it  works. — My  case 26 

CHAPTER   IV. 

Origin  of  the  unhappy  feeling  between  me  and  some  of  my  brother  ministers. 
— Tendencies  of  my  mind. — Rationalizing  tendency. — Its  effects. — Reading. — 

Investigations. — Discoveries, 30 

CHAPTER  V. 

Modification  of  my  early  creed. — Unseriptural  doctrines  relinquished. — Scrip- 
tural ones  adopted. — vSome  doctrines  modified. — Theological  fictions  dropped. 
— Eager  for  the  pure,  simple  truth  as  taught  by  Jesus. — Doctrine  of  types 
given  up. — Other   notions   relinquished. — Alarm  of  some  of  my  brethren  at 

these  changes;. 44 

CHAPTER  VI. 

How  preachers  and  theologians  indulge  their  fancies  on  religion. — John  Wes- 
ley.— His  resolution  to  be  a  man  of  one  book. — AVhat  came  of  his  resolution. 
— His  sermon  on  God's  approbation  of  His  works, — unseriptural  and  unphilo- 
sophical  throughout. — Illustrations  and  proofs. — And  Wesley  was  one  of  the 
best  and  wisest,  on?  of  the  most  honest  and  single-minded  of  our  theologians. 
— What  then  may  we  expect  of  •  thers  ? — Evils  of  theological  trifling. — Mischie- 
vous effects  of  mixing  human  fictions  with  Divine  revelations 55 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Further  theological  investigations. — Unwarranted  statements  by  preachers.— 
John  Foster's  Essay  on  Some  of  the  Causes  by  which  Evangelical  Religion  is 
Rendered  Dist.Tsteful  to  Persons  of  Cultivated  Minds. — Introduction  of  similar 
views  to  the  notice  of  my  ministerial  Virethi-en. — The  reception  they  met 
with. — No  Church  has  got  all  the  truth. — Most  Churches,  perhaps  all,  have  got 
portions  of  it,  which  others  have  not. — My  attempts  to  gather  up  the  frag- 
ments from  all. — Freedom  from  bigotry. — Love  to  all  Christians. — Judging 
trees  by  their  fruit. — Reading  the  books  of  various  denominations,  like 
foreign  travel,  liberalizes  the  mind. — I  found  truth  and  goodness  in  all  de- 

iii 


IV  CONTENTS. 

nominations. — Appropriated  all  as  part  of  my  patrimony. — Results. — Suspi- 
cions and  fears  amoug  my  brethren. — Mutterings  :  Baekbitings  :  Controversy. 
Bad  feeling 05 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
My  style  of  preaching. — Decidedly  practical. — Using  Christianity  as  a  means  for 
making  bad  people  into  good  ones,  and  good  ones  always  better. — Reasons  for 
this  method. — A  family  trait. — Hereditary. — Great  need  of  practical  preach- 
ing.— Folly  of  other  kinds  of  Preaching. — Littleness  of  great  Preachers. — Worth- 
lessness  of  great  sermons. — The  Truly  Great  are  the  Greatly  Good  and  Greatly 
Useful. — My  3Iodels. — The  Bible. — Jesus. — My  Favorite  Preachers. — Billy  Daw- 
son, David  Stoner,  James  Parsons. — My  Favorite  Books. — The  Bible. — >fature. — 
Simple  Common  Sense,  instructive,  earnest,  moving  books. — How  my  preaching 
was  received  by  the  people. — Its  effects  on  c^iurches  and  congregations. — Un- 
easiness of  my  colleagues. — Fresh  mutterings;  tale  bearings;  controversies; 
and  more  bad  feeling, 82 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Extracts  from  my  Diary. — A  strange  preacher.— Horrible  sermons.— Lights  of  the 
world  that  give  no  light. — Theological  mist  and  smoke. — Narrow-mindedness. — 
Intolerance. — T.  AUin, — Great  preaching  great  folly. — A.  Scott, — -A  good  preach- 
er.—Sanctification. — Keep  to  Scripture. — R.  Watson  :  theological  madness. — Big 
Books  on  the  way  of  salvation  ;  puzzling  folks. — Antinomian  utterances  about 
Christ's  work  and  man's  salvation.— Preachers  taking  the  devil's  side ;  and 
doing  his  work. — Scarcity  of  common  sense  in  priesthoods,  and  of  uncommon 
sense.— The  great  abundance  of  nonsense  and  bad  sense.— Common  religious 
expressions  that  are  false. — Favorite  Hymns  that  are  not  Scriptural.- Baxter's 
good  sense 98 

CHAPTER  X. 
Reforming  tendencies. — Corruptions  in  the  Church.— Bad  trades.— Faults  in  the 
ministry. — Toleration  of  vice. — Drinking  habits. — Intemperance. — The  Con- 
nexion.— Faulty  rules. — Bad  customs. — Defective  institutions. — All  encouraged 
to  suggest  reforms  and  punished  for  doing  so. — Original  principles  of  the  Con- 
nexion set  aside,  and  persecution  substituted  for  freedom. — My  simplicity. — 
My  reward. — The  Ministr3'. — Drunkenness. — Teetotalism. — Advocacy  of  Tem- 
perance.— Outcry  of  preachers. — ^My  Evangelical  Reformer. — Articles  on  the 
prevailing  vices  of  the  Church:  On  Toler.ation  and  Human  Creeds; — On  Chan- 
ning's  Works;  On  Anti-Christian  tr.ading,  Ac,  get  me  into  trouble. — Conference 
interference. — Conference  trials. — The  state  of  things  critical. — No  remedy. — 
Matters  get  worse  and  worse. — E.xciting  events :  too  many  to  bo  named  here. — 
Envy,  jealousy,  rage,  strife,  confusion,  and  many  evil  works. — Conspiracies: 
Fierce  conflicts. — Expulsion 117 

CHAPTER  XL 

Explanations  about  the  different  Methodist  Bodies. — Grounds  of  my  reformatory 
proceedings.— About  immoralities.— Christianity  not  to  blame  for  the  faults 
of  professors  and  preachers. — My  own  defects, 153 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Story  of  my  life  continued. — Results  of  my  expulsion. — Fierce  ficchfing. — Des- 
peration of  my  persecutors.— Groat  excitement  on  my  part. — Rank  crop  of 
slanders. — Monstrous  ones. — .And  silly  ones.- Bad  deeds  as  well  as  wicked 
words. — Hard  ^^tork. — Exhaustion. — Poworlessness. — Three  days'  rest. — Long 
sleep.— Wonderful,— delightful,— rcsult.—Public    debates.- Remarkable  occur- 


CONTENTS.  V 

rences;  seemed  Providential.— A  lying  opponent  unexpectedly  confronted  and 
confounded.— New  Body,— Christian  Brethren.- My  church  at  Newcastle.— 
Change  in  my  views,  and  fresh  troubles.— Losses.— Poverty.— Learn  the  Print- 
ing business.— Follow  it  under  difficulties.— Want  of  funds.— Generous  friends. 
Family  on  the  verge  of  want. — Pray.— An  unlooked-for  cart-load  of  provisions. 
—Trust  in  Providence.- False  friends. — True  ones.— A  mad  utterance. — A  worse 
deed.— Theological  Conventions.— Free  investigations  ^j)4  public  discussions. — 

Change  of  views, 1(33 

CHAPTER  XIIL 

Approach  to  Unitarianism. — Kindness  of  Unitarians. — Preaching  and  lecturing  in 
their  pulpits. — Ten  nights'  public  discussion  with  Rev.  W.  Cooke. — Subjects. — 
Results. — Publications. — New  periodicals. — Unitarian  invitation  to  London. — 
Public  reception. — Liberal  contributions  to  Steam  Press  Fund. — Press  pre- 
sentation.— Dr.  Bateman  ;  Dr.-Sir-John  Bowring. — Pleasurable  change  from  in- 
tolerance and  persecution  to  friendship  and  favor. — Discoveries. — Unitarianism 
has  many  phases. — Channingism. — Anti-supernaturalism. — Deism. — Atheism. — 

Graduallj'  slid  down  to  the  lower, 191 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Bible. — My  earliest  views  of  its  origyi  and  authority. — Changed  as  I  grewup. 
— Further  changes. — Important  facts  about  the  Bible. — False  theories  of  its 
Divine  inspiration. — The  true — the  Bible's  own, — doctrine  on  the  subject. — 
Needful  to  keep  inside  of  this. — No  defence  outside  either  for  the  Bible  or  for 
Bible  men. — Explanations  :  illustrations  :  testimonies  of  celebrated  writers. — 
The  PERFECTION  of  the  Bible — in  what  does  it  consist. — Foolish  and  impossible 
notions  of  perfection. — No  absolute  perfection  in  any  thing. — No  need  for  it. — 

Foolish  talk  about  infallibility. — Other  important  testimonies, 202 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Enters  polities. — Advocates  extreme  political  views. — Republicanism. — Foretells 
the  French  Revolution  of  1848. — Great  political  excitement  in  England. — Go- 
vernment alarmed. — Get  arrested. — Lodged  in  prison. — Trial. — Triumph  over 
Government. — Great  rejoicings. — Elected  member  of  Parliament  for  Bolton, and 
Town  Councillor  for  Leeds. — Exhaustion  from  excess  of  labor. — Health  fails. — 
Terrible  Pains. — Voyage  to  America  and  back. — Removes  to  America. — Objects 
in  doing  so. — Settles  on  a  farm. — Gets  into  fresh  excitement. — The  Abolition- 
ists.— Women's  Rights. — All  kinds  of  wild  revolutionary  theories. — Go  farther 
into  unbelief  instead  of  getting  back  to  Christ. — A  mad  world,  with  strange  un- 
written histories,  and  awful,  nameless  mysteries, 241 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Story  of  my  descent  from  the  faith  of  my  childhood,  to  doubt  and  unbelief.— Bad 
theological  teaching  in  my  early  days. — Dreadful  results. — Perplexity. — Mad- 
ness.— Survive  all,  and  get  over  it. — The  first  arguments  I  heard  for  the  Bible. 
— True  basis  of  religious  belief. — Reading  on  the  evidences. — Effects. — Unsound 
arguments. — Their  effect. — Internal  evidences  best. — Negative  criticism,  long 
continued,  ruinous  both  to  faith  and  virtue. — Moving  ever  downwards. — The 
devil  as  a  theologian,  a  poet  and  a  philosopher. — Bible  Conventions. — W.  L. 
Garrison,  A.  J.  Davis.— Public  discussions  in  Philadelphia  with  Dr.  McCalla: — 
The  Doctor's  disgraceful  failure. — Great, — mad,— excitement. — Narrow  escape 
from  murder. — Eight  nights'  debate  with  Dr.  Berg. — The  good  cause  suffered 
through  bad  management.— The  Doctor  took  an  untenable  position. — Under- 
took to  prove  too  much  and  failed.— Substantially  right,  but  logically  wrong. — 
Other  debates  in  Ohio,  Indiana,  England  and  Scotland. — Mean  and  mischievous 
opponents.— Honorable  and  useful  ones.— Bad  advocates  of  a  good  cause,  its 
worst  enemies, 269 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
Continuation  of  my  Story.— Lectures  on  the  Bible  in  Ohio.— Trouble.— Riot.— Rot- 
ten eggs.— Midnight  mischief.— Had  to  move.— Settlement  among  Liberals, 
Comeouters. — Too  fond  of  liberty. — Would  have  my  share  as  well  as  their  own. — 
Fresh  trouble. — Anotlier  forced  move. — Settlement  yi  the  wildg  of  Nebraska, 
among  Indians,  wolves,  and  rattlesnakes. — Experience  there. — A  change  for  the 
better. — How  brought  about. — Quiet  of  mind. — Reflection. — Horrors  of  Atheism. 
— Destroys  the  value  of  life. — Deceives  you ;  mocks  you ;  makes  you  intoler.v 
bli'  miserable. — Suggests  suici<le. — Prosperity  not  good  for  much  without  reli- 
gion :  adversity,  sickness,  pain,  loss,  bereavement  intolerable. — Strange  adven- 
tures in  the  wilderness;  terrible  dangers;  wonderful  deliverances. — Solemn 
thoughts  and  feelings  in  the  boundless  desert. — Solitude  and  silence  preach.— 
Religious  feelini^s  revive. — Recourse  to  old  religious  books. — Demoralizing  ten- 
dency of  unbelief. — Lecture  in  Philadelphia. — Cases  of  infidel  depravity. — You 
can't  make  people  good,  nor  even  decent,  without  religion. — Infidelity  means 
utter  debasement. — A  good,  a  loving,  and  a  faithful  wife,  who  never  ceases  to 
pray. — Return  to  England. — Experience  there. — Unbounded  licentiousness  of 
Secularism. — Total  separation  from  the  infidel  party. — Jly  new  Periodical. — Re- 
solution to  re-read  the  Bible,  to  do  justice  to  Christianity,  &c. — A  sight  of  Jesus. 
— Happy  results. — Change  both  of  hea3  and  heart. — Happy  transformation  of 
character. — A.  new  life. — New  work. — New  lot. — From  darkness  to  light, — From 
death  to  life, — from  purgatory  to  paradise, — from  hell  to  heaven, 310 

CHAPTER  XVin. 
Parties  whose  Christian  sympathy,  and  wise  words,  and  generous  deeds,  helped 
me  back  to  Christ, 345 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
The  steps  by  which  I  gradually  returned  to  Christ. — Lectures  and  sermons  on 
the  road. — Answers  to  objections  against  the  Bible  and  Christianity. — Spiritual- 
ism.— Strange  phenomena. — Answers  to  objections  advanced  by  myself  in  tlie 
Berg  debate. — The  position  to  be  taken  by  advocates  of  the  Bible  and  Christi- 
anity.— Additional  remarks  on  Divine  inspiration. — What  it  implies,  and  what  it 
does  not  imply. — Overdoing  is  undoing. — Genesis  and  Geology. — The  Bible  and 
Science. — Public  discussions, — e.xplanation. — At  Home  in  the  Church. — Sorrow- 
ful, yet  always  rejoicing. — Joy  unspeakable 355 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Lessons  I  have  learned. — 1.  Men  slow  to  learn  wisdom  by  the  experience  of 
otliers. — 2.  Danger  of  bad  feeling. — 3.  Of  a  controversial  spirit. — i.  Old  ministers 
should  deal  tenderly  with  their  younger  brethren. — 6.  Young  thinkers  should 
be  prayerful,  humble,  watchful ;  yet  faithful  to  conscience  and  to  truth,  trust- 
ing in  God.— 6.  With  Christian  faith  goes  Christian  virtue.— The  tendency  of 
unbelief  is  ever  downwards. — 7.  Unliolievers  are  not  irreclaimable. — We  slunild 
not  pass  tliem  by  unpitied  or  unhelped. — S.  Converts  from  infidelity  must  look 
for  trials.— They  must  not  expect  too  much  from  churches  and  ministers. 
Paul's  case.— 0.  Tliey  must  risk  all  for  Christ,  and  bear  their  losses  and  troubles 
patiently.— 10.  They  should  join  the  Church,  right  away. — Not  look  for  a  perfect 
Church. — Keep  inside. — Boar  unpleasantnesses  meekly. — Stones  made  smooth 
and  round  in  the  stream,  by  the  rubbing  they  get  from  other  stones. — Reformers 
should  move  gently,  and  have  long  patience. — The  more  haste  the  worst  speed. 
— Killing  rats.— 12.  UnViclief,  when  not  a  sin,  is  a  terrible  calamity:  a  world  of 
calainities  in  one, 406 

CojicLUDiNQ  Rkmarks, 437 


PREFACE. 


The  object  of  this  Book  is,  First,  to  explain  a  portion 
of  my  own  history,  and,  Secondly,  to  check  the  spread 
of  infidelity,  and  promote  the  interests  of  Christianity. 
How  far  it  is  calculated  to  answer  these  ends  I  do  not  pre- 
tend to  know.  I  have  no  very  high  opinion  of  the  work 
myself.  I  fear  it  has  great  defects.  On  some  points  I  may 
have  said  too  much,  and  on  others  too  little.  I  cannot  tell. 
I  have  however  done  my  best,  and  I  would  fain  hope, 
that  my  labors  will  not  prove  to  have  been  altogether  in 
vain. 

I  have  spent  considerable  time  with  a  view  to  bring  my 
readers  to  distinguish  between  tlie  doctrines  of  Christ,  and 
the  theological  fictions  which  are  so  extensively  propagated 
in  His  name.  It  is  exceedingly  desirable  that  nothing 
should  pass  for  Christianity,  but  Christianity  itself.  And 
it  is  equally  desirable  that  Christianity  should  be  seen  in 
its  true  light,  as  presented  in  the  teachings  and  character,  in 
the  life  and  death  of  its  great  Author.  A  correct  exposi- 
tion of  Christianity  is  .  its  best  defence.  A  true,  a  plain, 
a  faithful  and  just  exhibition  of  its  spirit  and  teachings, 
and  of  its  adaptation  to  the  wants  of  man,  and  of  its 
tendency  to  promote  his  highest  welfare,  is  the  best  answer 
to  all  objections,  and  the  most  convincing  proof  of  its 
truth  and  divinity.  And  the  truth,  the  reasonableness,  the 
consistency,  the  purifying  and  ennobling  tendency,  and 
the  unequalled  consoling  power  of  Christianity,  can  be 
proved,  and  proved  with  comparative  ease  ;  but  to  defend 
the  nonsense,  the  contradictions,  the  antjnomianism  and 
the  blasphemies  of  theology  is  impossible. 

I  have  taken  special  pains  to  explain  my  views  on  the 

7 


8  PEEFACE. 

Divine  Inspiration  of  the  Scriptures.  I  am  satisfied  that 
no  attempts  to  answer  the  objections  of  infidels  against 
the  Bible  will  prove  satisfactory,  so  long  as  men's  views 
on  this  subject  go  beyond  the  teachings  of  the  Scriptures 
themselves.  To  the  fanciful  theories  of  a  large  number 
of  Theologians  the  sacred  writings  do  not  answer,  and  you 
must  therefore,  either  set  aside  those  theories,  and  put  a 
more  moderate  one  in  their  place,  or  give  up  the  defence 
of  the  Bible  in  despair.  I  therefore  leave  the  extravagant 
theories  to  their  fate,  and  content  myself  with  what  the 
Scriptures  themselves  say ;  and  I  feel  at  rest  and  secure. 

The  views  I  have  given  on  the  subject  in  this  work, 
and  in  my  pamphlet  on  the  Bible,  are  not  new.  You  may 
find  them  in  the  w^orks  of  quite  a  number  of  Evangelical 
Authors.  The  only  credit  to  which  I  am  entitled  is,  that 
I  state  them  with  great  plainness,  and  without  reserve, 
and  that  I  do  not,  after  having  given  them  on  one  page, 
take  them  back  again  on  the  next. 

How  far  my  friends  will  be  able  to  receive  or  tolerate 
my  views  on  these  points,  I  do  not  know.  I  hope  they 
will  ponder  them  with  all  the  candor  and  charity  they  can. 
I  have  kept  as  near  to  orthodox  standards  as  I  could,  with- 
out doing  violence  to  my  conscience,  and  injustice  to  the 
truth.  I  would  never  be  singular,  if  I  could  honestly  help 
it.  It  is  nothing  but  a  regard  to  God,  and  duty,  and  the 
interests  of  humanity,  that  jirevents  me  going  with  the 
multitude.  It  would  be  gratifving  in  the  extreme  to  see 
truth  and  the  majority  on  one  side,  and  to  be  permitted  to 
take  my  place  with  them  :  but  if  the  majority  take  sides 
with  error,  I  must  take  my  place  with  the  minority,  and 
look  for  my  comfort  in  a  good  conscience,  and  in  the  sweet 
assurance  of  God's  love  and  favor. 

A  Dream. 

In  looking  over  some  manuscripts  some  time  ago,  belong- 
ing to  a  relation  of  my  wife's  father-in-law,  I  found  the 
following  story  of  a  dream.  Some  have  no  regard  for 
dreams,  but  I  have.  I  have  both  read  of  dreams,  and 
had  dreams  myself,  that  answered  marvellously  to  great 
realities ;  and  this  may  be  one  of  that  kind.     In  any  case, 


PREFACE. 


as  the  Preface  does  not  take  up  all  the  space  set  apart  for 
it,  I  am  disposed  to  give  it  a  few  of  the  vacant  pages. 

The  dreamer's  account  of  liis  dream  is  as  follows. 

*  After  tiring  my  brain  one  day  with  reading  a  long  de- 
bate between  a  Catholic  and  a  Protestant  about  the  Infal- 
libility of  the  Church  and  the  Bible,  I  took  a  walk  along  a 
quiet  field-path  near  the  river,  full  of  thought  on  the  sub- 
ject on  which  I  had  been  reading.  The  fresh  air,  the 
pleasant  scene,  and  the  ripple  of  the  stream,  had  such  a 
soothing  effect  on  me,  that  I  lost  myself,  and  passed  un- 
consciously from  the  World  of  realities,  into  the  Land 
of  dreams.  I  found  myself  in  a  large  Hall,  filled  with  an 
eager  crowd,  listening  to  a  number  of  men  who  had  as- 
sembled, as  I  was  told,  to  discuss  the  affairs  of  the  Uni- 
verse, and  put  an  end  to  controversy.  The  subject  under 
discussion  just  then  was  the  Sun.  "l  found  that  after  the 
world  had  lived  in  its  light  for  thousands  of  years,  and 
been  happy  in  the  abundance  of  the  fruit,  and  grain,  and 
numberless  blessings  produced  by  his  wondrous  influences, 
some  one,  who  had  looked  at  the  Great  Light  through  a 
powerful  telescope,  had  discovered  that  there  were  several 
dark  spots  on  his  disk  or  face,  and  that  some  of  them  were 
of  a  very  considerable  size.  He  named  the  matter  to  a 
number  of  his  friends  who,  looking  through  the  telescope 
for  themselves,  saw  that  such  was  really  the  case. 

'  Now  there  happened  to  be  an  order  of  persons  in  the 
Land  of  dreams  whose  business  it  was  to  praise  the  Sun, 
and  extol  its  Light.  And  they  had  a  theory  to  the  eflPectl 
that  the  Light  of  the  Sun  was  unmixed,  and  that  the  Sun 
itself  was  one  uniform  mass  of  brightness  and  brilliancy, 
without  speck,  or  spot,  or  any  such  th-ing.  Thev  held  that 
the  Head  of  their  order  was  the  Maker  of  the  Sun,— that 
He  Himself  was  Light,  and  that  in  Him  was  no  darkness  at 
all ;  and  that  the  Sun  was  exactly  like  Him,  intense,  un- 
mingled,  and  unvarying  Light.  When  these  people  heard 
of  the  alleged  discovery  of  the  spots,  they  raised  a  tremen- 
dous cry,  and  some  howled,  and  some  shrieked,  and  all 
united  in  pronouncing  the  statement  a  fiction,  and  in  de- 
nouncing in  severe  terms,  both  its  author,  and  all  who  took 
his  part,  as  deceivers ;  as  the  enemies  of  the  Sun,  as  blas- 
phemers of  its  Author,  and  as  the  enemies  of  the  human  race. 


10  PREFACE. 

'  Tliis  was  one  of  the  great  controversies  which  this  world- 
wide convention  had  met  to  bring  to  an  end. 

'  As  I  took  my  place  in  the  Ilall,  one  of  the  Professors 
of  the  Solar  University  was  speaking.  He  said  the  story 
about  the  spots  was  a  wicked  calumny ;  and  he  went  into 
a  lengthy  and  labored  argument  to  show,  that  the  thing 
was  absurd  and  impossible.  '  The  Sun/  said  he,  '  was 
made  by  an  All-perfect  Artificer, — made  on  purpose  to  be 
a  Light,  the  Gi'eat  Light  of  the  world,  and  a  Light  it  must 
be,  and  nothing  else  but  a  Light ;  a  pure  unsullied  Light  all 
round,  without  either  spot,  or  speck  of  any  kind,  or  any 
varying  shade  of  brilliancy  in  any  part.^  He  added,  'To 
say  the  contrary,  is  to  do  the  Sun  injustice,  to  dishonor  its 
All-glorious  Author,  to  alienate  the  minds  of  men  from 
the  Heavenly  Luminary,  to  destroy  their  faith  in  his  Light 
and  warmtli,  to  plunge  the  world  into  darkness,  and  reduce 
it  to  a  state  of  utter  desolation.  If  the  Sun  is  not  all  lighj:, 
he  is  no  Light  at  all.  If  there  be  dark  spots  on  one  part 
of  his  face,  there  may  be  dark  spots  on  every  part.  '  All 
may  be  dark,  and  M'hat  seems  Light  may  be  an  illu- 
sion ;  a  false  Light,  '  that  leads  to  bewilder,  and  dazzles  to 
blind.'  He  is  nut  to  be  trusted.  Every  thing  is  uncer- 
tain.' And  he  called  the  man  who  said  he  had  seen  the 
spots,  an  impostor,  a  blasphemer,  a  scavenger,  an  ass,  a 
foreigner,  and  a  number  of  other  strange  names. 

'  Tlie  man  he  was  abusing  so  unmercifully,  stepped  forward, 
and  in  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit  said,  '  I  saw  the  spots  with 
ray  own  eyes.  I  have  seen  them  scores  of  times.  I  can 
show  them  to  you,  if  you  \vill  look  through  this  glass.' 
'  Your  glass  is  a  cheat,  a  lie,'  said  the  Professor.  'But 
others  have  seen  them,'  said  the  man,  '  as  well  as  I,  and 
seen  them  through  a  number  of  other  glasses.' 

'It  is  impossible,'  answered  the  Professor.  'A  Sun 
made  by  an  All-perfect  God,  and  made  on  purpose  to  be  a 
Light,  cannot  possibly  be  defaced  with  dark  spots ;  and 
wlioever  says  any  thing  to  the  contrary  is  a .' 

'  Here  the  Professor  rested  his  case ; — '  A  Sun  without 
spots,  or  no  Sun.  Light  without  variation  of  shade,  or  no 
Light.  Prove  that  the  Sun  has  spots,  and  you  reduce  him 
to  a  level  with  an  old  extinguished  lamp,  that  is  fit  for  no- 
thing but  to  be  cast  away  as  an  unclean   and  worthless 


PREFACE.  11 

thing.     Tlie  honor  of  God,  and  the  welflire  of  the  universe 
all  hang  on  this  one  question, — Spots,  or  no  sjjots !' 

'  His  fellow  professors  took  his  part,  and  many  spoke  in 
the  same  strain.  But  the  belief  in  the  spots  made  its  way, 
and  spread  further  every  day,  and  the  consequence  was' 
the  obstinate  Professors  were  confounded-Snd  put  to  shame. 
Facts  were  too  strong  for  them,  and' their  credit  and  in- 
fluence were  damaged  beyond  remedy. 

'  After  the  Professors  of  the  Sun  were  silenced,  the  Man 
in  the  Moon  arose  and  spoke.  He  contended  that  both 
Sun  and  Moon  were  free  from  spots,  but  said,  that  no  one 
could  see  the  Sun  as  it  really  was,  unless  he  lived  in  the 
Moon,  and  looked  at  it  from  his  standpoint.  '  The  Moon,' 
said  he,  '  like  the  Sun,  is  the  work  of  the  All-perfect  Crea- 
tor ;  and  its  face  is  one  unchanging  blaze  of  absolute  and 
unvaried  brightness.' 

'Now  all  who  had  ever  looked  at  the  Moon,  had  noticed, 
tliat  no  part  of  her  face  was  as  bright  as  the  Sun,  and  that 
some  portions  were  of  a  shade  considerably  darker  than  the 
rest.  And  1  noticed  that  even  the  Professors  Avho  had  spoken 
extravagantly  about  the  Sun,  looked  at  each  other  and 
smiled,  when  they  heard  the  statements  of  the  Man  in  the 
Moon.  Indeed  there  was  such  a  tittering  and  a  gioxrlino- 
through  the  Hall,  that  the  meeting  was  broken  up.  *^ 
^  'I  hastened  out,  and  found  there  were  a  hundred  discus- 
sions going  on  in  the  street.  Many  of  the  disputants  seemed 
greatly  excited.  I  felt  melancholy.  A  quiet-looking  man, 
with  a  very  gentle  expression  of  countenance,  came  up  to 
me,  and  in  tones  of  remarkable  sweetness,  said,  '  You 
seem  moved.'  a  feel  troubled,' said  I.  'I  don't 'know 
what  to  think  ;  and  I  don't  know  what  to  do.'  He  smiled, 
and  said,  '  None  of  these  things  move  me.'  Then  lifting  up 
his  eyes  towards  Heaven  he  said,—'  The  Sun  still  shines ; 
and  I  feel  his  blessed  warmth  as  sensibly  as  ever.  And 
the  millions  of  our  race  still  live  and  rejoice  in  his  beams.' 
'  Thank  God,'  said  I :  '  Yes,  I  see,  he 'still  shines  ;  and  1 
will  rest  contented  with  his  light  and  warmth.'  'The 
spots  are  there,'  said  he,  'past  doubt;  but  experience,  the 
strongest  evidence  of  all,  proves  tliat  they  do  not  interfere 
with  the  beneficent  influences  of  the  Great  and  Glorious  Orb, 
or  lessen  his  claims  to  our  respect  and  veneration,  or  dimi- 


12  PREFACE. 

nish  one  jot  our  obligations  to  his  great  Author.  They 
have  their  use,  no  doubt.  The  Sun  might  be  too  brilliant 
without  them,  and  destroy  our  eyes,  instead  of  giving  us 
light.  Too  much  light  might  prove  as  bad  as  too  little. 
All  is  M'ell.  I  accept  plain  facts.  To  deny  them  is  to 
fight  against  God.  To  admit  them  and  trust  in  God  is  the 
true  fiiith,  and  the  germ  of  all  true  virtue  and  piety. 

*  I  have  no  faith  in  the  kind  of  absolute  perfection  those 
professors  contend  for,  either  in  Sun  or  Moon,  Bible  or 
Church  ;  but  I  believe  in  the  sufficiency,  or  practical 
perfection  of  all,  and  am  as  happy,  and  only  wish  I  Mere 
as  good  and  useful,  as ' 

'  Just  as  he  spoke  tljose  words,  I  awoke.  He  seemed  as 
if  he  had  much  to  say,  and  I  would  fain  have  heard  him 
talk  his  sweet  talk  till  now ;  but  perhaps  I  had  heard 
enough,  and  ought  now  to  set  myself  heartily  to  work, 
to  get  through  with  the  business  of  my  life.' 

So  ends  the  Dream-story. 

Some  writers  seem  to  think  that  their  readers  should 
understand  and  receive  their  views,  however  new  and 
strange  they  may  be,  the  moment  they  place  them  before 
their  minds.  They  cannot  understand  how  that  which  is 
clear  to  them,  should  not  be  plain  to  everybody  else.  And 
there  are  some  readers  who  seem  to  think,  that  every  thing 
they  meet  with  in  the  books  they  read,  however  much  it 
may  be  out  of  the  way  of  their  ordinary  thought,  or  how- 
ever contrary  to  their  long-cherished  belief,  should,  if  it  be 
really  intelligible  and  true,  appear  so  to  them  at  first 
glance.  How  can  anything  seem  mysterious  or  untrue  to 
them, -that  is  not  mysterious  or  untrue  in  its  very  nature? 

It  so  happened,  that  along  with  the  dream-story,  1  found 
the  following  fragment.  It  is  not  an  interpretation  of  the 
dream,  but  it  seems  as  if  it  might  teach  a  useful  lesson,  both 
to  writers  and  readers. 

'  Something  more  than  light,  and  eyes,  and  surrounding 
objects,  is  necessary  to  seeing.  A  new-born  child  may 
have  light,  and  eyes,  and  surrounding  objects,  and  yet  not 
see  anything  distinctly.  And  a  man  born  blind  may  have 
the  film  removed  from  his  eyes,  and  l)e  ]>laced,  at  noontide, 
in  the  midst  of  a  world  of  interesting  objects,  and  yet,  in- 
stead of  seeing  things,  as  ice  See  them,  have  nothing  but  a 


PREFACE.  13 

confounding  and  distressing  sensation.  Seeing,  as  we  see, 
is  the  result  of  habit,  acquired  by  long-continued  use.  The 
new-born  babe  must  have  time  to  exercise  its  eyes,  and 
exercise  its  little  mind  as  well,  before  it  can  distinguish 
face  from  face,  and  form  from  form.  The  man  who  has 
just  received  his  sight  must  have  time  forsimilar  exercise, 
before  he  can  enjoy  the  rich  pleasures  and  advantages  of 
sight  to  perfection.  Even  we  who  have  had  our  sight  for 
fifty  years  do  not  see  as  many  things  in  a  picture,  a  land- 
scape, or  a  bed  of  flowers,  when  we  sec  them  for  the  first 
time,  as  those  who  have  been  accustomed  to  inspect  and 
examine  such  objects  for  years. 

'  And  so  it  is  with  mental  and  moral  vision.  Something 
more  than  a  mind,  and  instruction,  and  mental  objects  are 
necessary  to  enable  a  man  to  understand  religion  and  duty. 
Attention,  study,  comparison,  continued  with  calmness, 
and  candor,  and  patience,  for  days,  for  months,  or  for  years, 
may  be  necessary  to  enable  a  skeptic  to  understand,  to  be- 
lieve, and  to  feel  like  those  who  have  long  been  disciples 
of  Christ. 

'And  a  change  of  habits,  continued  till  it  produces  a 
change  of  tastes  and  desires,  is  necessary  to  prepare  the 
sensualist  to  judge  correctly  with  regard  to  things  moral 
and  religious.  We  must  not  therefore  expect  a  good  lec- 
ture, or  an  able  book,  to  cure  a  skeptic  of  his  doubts  at 
once.  It  may  produce  an  eifect  which,  in  time,  if  the  party 
be  faithful  to  duty,  will  end  in  his  conversion  at  a  future 
day.  T'lie  seed  committed  to  the  soil  does  not  produce 
rich  harvests  in  a.  day.  A  change  of  air  and  habits  does 
not  at  once  regenerate  the  invalid.  The  husbandman  has 
to  wait  long  for  his  croj) :  and  the  physician  has  to  wait 
long  for  the  recovery  of  his  patient.  And  the  skeptic  has 
to  wait  long,  till  the  seed  of  truth,  deposited  in  his  soul, 
unfolds  its  germs,  and  produces  the  rich  ripe  harvest  of 
faith,  and  holiness,  and  joy. 

'  And  preachers  and  teachers  must  not  think  it  strange, 
if  their  hearers  and  readers  are  slow  to  change.  Nor  must 
they  despond  even  though  no  signs  of  improvement  appear 
for  months  or  years.  A  change  for  the  better  in  a  student 
may  not  be  manifest  till  it  has  been  in  progress  for  years.  It 
may  not  be  perfected  for  many  years.     You  cannot  force  a 


1-i  PREFACE. 

cliange  of  mind,  as  yoii  can  force  the  growth  of  a  plant  in 
a  hot-house.  An  attempt  to  do  so  might  stop  it  altoge- 
ther. Baxter  said,  two  hundred  years  ago,  '  Nothing  so 
much  hindereth  the  reception  of  the  truth,  as  nrging  it  on 
men  with  too  much  importunity,  and  falling  too  heavily 
on  their  errors.' 

'  Have  patience,  then.  Teach,  as  your  pupil  may  be  pre- 
pared to  learn,  but  respect  the  laws  of  the  Eternal,  which 
have  fixed  long  intervals  for  slow  and  silent  processes,  be- 
tween the  seed-time  and  the  harvest-home.' 

While  I  am  in  doubt  as  to  whether  I  have  put  into  my 
book  too  much  on  some  subjects,  I  am  thoroughly  convinced 
that  I  have  put  into  it  too  little  on  others.  I  have  not  said 
enough,  nor  half  enough,  on  Atheism.  I  ought  to  have 
exposed  its  groundlessness,  its  folly,  and  its  mischievous 
and  miserable  tendency  at  considerable  length. 

This  defect  I  shall  try  to  remedy  as  soon  as  possible,  and 
in  the  best  way  I  can. 

Some  weeks  ago  I  read  a  paper  before  the  ISI.  E. 
Preachers'  Meeting  of  Philadelphia,  on  Atheism, — wliat 
can  it  say  for  itself?  The  paper  Avas  received  with  great 
favor,  and  many  asked  for  its  publication.  It  will  form 
the  first  article  in  my  next  volume. 

I  expect,  in  fact,  to  give  the  subject  of  Atheism  a  pretty 
thorough  examination  in  that  volume,  and  to  show  that  it 
is  irrational  and  demoralizing  from  beginning  to  end,  and 
to  the  last  extreme. 

John  Stuart  Mill,  the  head  and  representative  of  English 
Literary  and  Philosophical  Atheists,  has  left  ns  a  history 
of"  his  life,  and  of  his  father's  life.  In  this  work  he  pre- 
sents us  with  full  length  portraits  of  himself  and  his  father, 
and  both  gives  us  their  reasons  for  being  Atheists,  and  re- 
veals to  us  the  influence  of  their  Atheism  on  their  hearts 
and  characters,  as  well  as  on  their  views  on  morality,  poli- 
tics, and  other  important  subjects. 

And  though  the  painter,  as  wc  might  expect,  flatters 
to  some  extent  both  himself  and  his  father,  yet  he  gives 
us  the  more  important  features  of  both  so  truthfully,  that 
we  have  no  difficulty  in  learning  from  them,  what  kind 
of  creatures  great  Philosophical  Atheists  are,  or  in  gather- 
ing from  their  works  a  great  amount  of  information  about 


PREFACE.  15 

infidelity,  of  the  most  melancholy,  but  of  the  most  interest- 
ing and  important  character. 

This  Autobiography  of  Mr.  Mill  I  propose  to  review.  I 
meant  to  review  it  in  this  volume,  but  I  had  not  room.  I 
intend  therefore  to  give  it  a  place  in  my  next  volume, 
which  may  be  looked  for  in  the  course  (ff  the  year. 

Another  worJc  has  just  been  published,  called  The  Old 
Faith  and  the  New.  It  is  the  last  and  most  important 
Avork  of  D.  F.  Strauss,  the  greatest  and  ablest  advocate  of 
antichristian  and  atheistic  views  that  the  ages  have  pro- 
duced,— the  Colossus  or  Goliath  of  all  the  infidel  hosts  of 
Christendom.  In  this  work,  which  he  calls  his  confes- 
sion, Strauss,  like  Mill,  gives  us  a  portrait  of  himself,  ex- 
hibiting not  only  his  views,  and  the  arguments  by  which 
he  labors  to  sustain  them,  but  the  influence  of  those  views 
on  the  hearts,  the  lives,  the  characters,  and  the  enjoyments 
of  men.  If  this  Book  can  be  answered, — if  the  arguments 
of  Strauss  can  be  fairly  met,  and  his  views  effectually  re- 
futed, infidelity  must  suffer  serious  damage,  and  the  cause 
of  Cliristianity  be  greatly  benefited.  I  have  gone  through 
the  Book  with  great  care.  I  have  measured  and  weighed 
its  arguments.  And  my  conviction  is,  that  the  work  ad- 
mits of  a  thorough  and  satisfactory  refutation.  If  I  had 
had  space,  I  should  have  made  some  remarks  on  it  in  this 
volume :  but  I  had  not.  I  propose  therefore  to  review 
it  at  considerable  length  in  my  next. 

SoniQ  time  ago  Robert  Owen  was  a  prominent  man  in 
the  infidel  world.  He  was  extolled  by  his  friends  as  a 
great  Philantliropist.  He  too  left  us  a  history  of  his  life, 
and  his  son,  Robert  Dale  Owen,  has  just  been  re])eating 
portions  of  that  history  in  the  Atlantic  Monthly.  It  may 
be  interesting  to  my  readers  to  know  what  Atheism  can  do 
in  the  way  of  Philanthropy.  We  propose  therefore  to  add 
a  review  of  the  Life  of  Robert  Owen  to  those  of  Strauss 
and  Mill. 

Robert  Dale  Owen  himself  was  an  Atheist  formerly,  and 
a  very  zealous  and  able  advocate  of  Atlieistical  views.  He 
gives  his  articles  in  the  Atlantic  Monthly  as  an  autobio- 
graphy, and  seeks  to  make  the  impression  that  he  has  re- 
vealed to  his  readers  all  the  important  facts  of  his  history 
without  reserve.     And   he   has   certainly  revealed  some 


16  •  PREFACE. 

strange  things.  But  there  are  certain  facts  which  he  has 
not  revealed,  facts  of  great  importance  too,  calculated  to 
show  the  demoralizing  tendency  of  infidelity.  We  propose 
to  render  the  autobiography  of  Mr.  Dale  Owen  more  com- 
plete, more  interesting,  and  more  instructive,  by  the  addi- 
tion of  some  of  those  facts. 

Frances  or  Fanny  "Wright  was  a  friend  of  Mr.  Dale 
Owen's.  She  was  the  great  representative  female  Atheist 
of  her  time.  Like  Mr.  Dale  Owen's  father,  she  was  rich, 
and  like  him,  seemed  desirous  to  do  something  in  the  way 
of  philanthropy.  Mr.  Dale  Owen,  who  was  her  agent  for 
some  time,  gives  us  some  interesting  facts  with  regard  to 
her  history,  which  may  prove  of  service  to  our  readers. 

In  Buckle  we  have  an  Atheistical  Historian,  who  en- 
deavors to  prove  that  we  are  indebted  for  all  the  advan- 
tages of  our  superior  civilization,  not  to  Christianity,  but  to 
natural  science  and  skepticism  alone.  He  represents 
Christianity  as  the  enemy  of  science,  and  as  the  great  im- 
pediment to  the  advance  of  civilization.  These  views 
of  Buckle  we  regard  as  false  and  foolish  to  the  last  ex- 
treme, and  we  expect  to  be  able  to  show  that  Europe  and 
America  are  indebted  for  their  superior  civilization,  and 
even  for  their  rich  treasures  of  natural  science,  not  to  in- 
fidelity, but  to  the  influence  of  Christianity. 

Matthew  Arnold  has  just  published  an  interesting  book 
entitled  literature  and  dogma.  It  is  however  a  mixed 
work  ;  and  we  propose,  while  noticing  a  number  of  its 
beautiful  utterances,  to  make  a  few  remarks  on  some  of  its 
objectionable  sentiments. 

There  is  a  great  multitude  of  important  fiicts  with  re- 
gard to  Christianity, — facts  which  can  be  understood  and 
appreciated  by  persons  of  ordinary  capacity,  and  which  no 
man  of  intelligence  and  candor  will  be  disposed  to  call  in 
question  ;  yet  facts  of  such  a  character  as  cannot  foil,  Avhen 
duly  considered,  to  leave  the  impression  on  men's  minds, 
that  Christianity  is  the  perfection  of  all  wisdom  and  good- 
ness, and  worthy  of  acceptance  as  a  revelation  from  an 
all-perfect  God,  and  as  the  mightiest  and  most  beneficent 
friend  of  mankind.  A  number  of  those  facts  we  propose 
to  give  in  our  next  volume. 


MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 


CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODUCTION. 


WHEN  a  man  has  travelled  far,  and  seen  strange  lands, 
and  dwelt  among  strange  peoples,  and  encountered 
uimsual  dangers,  it  is  natural,  on  his  return  home,  that  he 
should  feel  disposed  to  communicate  to  his  family  and 
friends  some  of  the  incidents  of  his  travels,  and  some  of  the 
discoveries  which  he  may  have  made  on  his  way. 

So  when  a  man  has  travelled  far  along  the  way  of  life, 
especially  if  he  has  ventured  on  strange  paths,  and  come  in 
contact  with  strange  characters,  and  had  altogether  a  large 
and  varied  experience,  it  is  natural,  as  he  draws  near  to  the 
end  of  his  journey,  or  when  he  reaches  one  of  its  more  im- 
portant stages,  that  he  should  feel  disposed  to  communicate 
to  his  friends  and  kindred  some  of  the  incidents  of  his  life  s 
pilgrimage,  and  some  of  the  lessons  which  his  experience 
may  have  engraven  on  his  heart.  He  will  especially  be 
anxious  to  guard  those  who  have  life's  journey  yet  before 
them,  against  the  errors  into  which  he  may  have  fallen,  and 
so  preserve  them  from  the  sorrows  that  he  may  have  had 
to  endure. 

And  so  it  is  with  me.  I  have  travelled  far  along  the 
way  of  life.  I  may  now  be  near  its  close.  I  have  cer- 
tainly of  late  passed  one  of  its  most  important  stages.  I 
have  had  a  somewhat  eventful  journey,  There  are  but  few 
perhaps  who  have  had  a  larger  or  more  varied  experience. 
2  17 


18  MODEEN   SKEPTICISM. 

I  have  committed  great  errors,  and  I  have  in  consequence 
passed  through  grievous  sorrows ;  and  I  would  fain  do 
something  towards  saving  those  who  come  after  me  from 
similar  errors  and  from  similar  sorrows  :  and  this  is  the  ob- 
ject of  the  work  before  you. 

At  an  early  period,  when  I  was  little  more  than  sixteen 
years  of  age,  I  became  a  member  of  the  Methodist  societ}'. 
Before  I  was  twenty  I  became  a  local  preacher.  Before  I 
was  twenty-three  I  became  a  travelling  preacher ;  and  after 
I  had  got  over  the  first  great  difficulties  of  my  calling,  I  was 
happy  in  my  work  ;  as  happy  as  a  mortal  man  need  wish  to 
be.  It  was  my  delight  to  read  good  books,  to  study  God's 
Word  and  works,  and  to  store  my  mind  with  useful  know- 
ledge. To  preach  the  Gospel,  to  turn  men  from  darkness 
to  light,  and  from  the  power  of  Satan  to  God,  and  to  pro- 
mote the  instruction  and  improvement  of  God's  people 
were  the  joy  and  rejoicing  of  my  soul.  There  were  times, 
and  those  not  a  few,  when  I  could  sing  with  Wesley — 

"  In  a  rapture  of  joy  my  life  I  employ, 
The  God  of  my  life  to  proclaim : 
'Tis  worth  living  for  this,  to  administer  bliss 
And  salvation  in  Jesus's  name." 

And  I  was  very  successful  in  my  work.  I  never  travel  led 
in  a  circuit  in  which  there  was  not  a  considerable  increase 
of  members,  and  in  one  place  where  I  was  stationed,  the 
numbers  in  church-fellowship  were  more  than  doubled  in 
less  than  eighteen  months. 

In  those  days  it  never  once  entered  my  mind  that  I  could 
ever  be  anything  else  but  a  Christian  minister :  yet  in 
course  of  time  I  ceased  to  be  one ;  ceased  to  be  even  a 
Christian.  I  was  severed  first  from  the  Church,  and  then 
from  Christ,  and  I  wandered  at  length  far  away  into  the 
regions  of  doubt  and  unbelief,  and  came  near  to  the  outer- 
most confines  of  eternal  night.      And  the  question  arisen. 

How  happened  this  ?  And  how  happened  it  that,  after 
having  wandered  so  far  away,  I  was  permitted  to  return  to 
my  present  happy  position  ? 

These  two  questions  I  shall  endeavor,  to  the  best  of  my 
ability,  to  answer. 


CAUSES  OF   UNBELIEF.  19 

CHAPTER  II. 

CAUSES   OF   UNBELIEFtT 

HOW  came  I  to  wander  into  doubt  and  unbelief? 
1.  There  are  several  causes  of  skepticism  and  infi- 
delity. One  is  vice.  When  a  man  is  bent  on  forbidden  plea- 
sures, he  finds  it  hard  to  believe  in  the  truth  and  divinity  of  a 
religion  that  condemns  his  vicious  indulgences.  And  the 
longer  he  persists  in  his  evil  course,  the  darker  becomes  his 
understanding,  the  more  corrupt  his  tastes,  and  the  more 
perverse  his  judgment ;  until  at  length  he  "  puts  darkness 
for  light,  and  light  for  darkness  ;  calls  evil  good  and  good 
evil,  and  mistakes  bitter  for  sweet,  and  sweet  for  bitter." 
He  becomes  an  infidel.  It  is  the  decree  of  Heaven  that 
men  who  persist  in  seeking  pleasure  in  unrighteousness, 
shall  be  given  up  to  strong  delusions  of  the  devil  to  believe 
a  lie. 

2.  But  there  are  other  causes  of  skepticism  and  unbelief 
besides  vice.  Thomas  was  an  unbeliever  for  a  time, — a  very 
resolute  one, — yet  the  Gospel  gives  no  intimation  that  he 
was  chargeable  with  any  form  of  vice.  And  John  the 
Baptist,  one  of  the  noblest  characters  in  sacred  history,  after- 
having  proclaimed  Jesus  as  the  Messiah  to  others,  came 
himself  to  doubt,  whether  He  was  really  "  the  one  that 
should  come,  or  they  should  look  for  another."  Like  the 
early  disciples  of  the  Saviour,  and  the  Jewish  peoj)le  gene- 
rally, John  expected  the  Messiah  to  take  the  throne  of 
David  by  force,  and  to  rule  as  a  temporal  prince ;  and  when 
Jesus  took  a  course  so  very  different,  his  confidence  in  his 
INIessiahship  was  shaken.  And  one  of  the  sweetest  Psalmists 
tells  us  that,  as  for  him,  his  feet  were  almost  gone ;  his 
steps  had  well-nigh  slipped  :  and  that,  not  because  he  was 
eager  for  sinful  pleasures,  but  because  he  saw  darkness  and 
clouds  around  the  Providence  of  God :  he  could  not  under- 
stand or  ^'justify  the  ways  of  God  to  man." 

And  there  are  thoughtfi^il  and  good  men  still  who  fall 
into  doubt  and  unbelief  from  similar  causes.     The  kind  of 


20  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

people  who,  like  Thomas,  arc  constitutionally  inclined  to 
doubt,  are  not  all  dead.  Baxter  mentions  a  class  of  men 
who  lived  in  his  day,  that  were  always  craving  for  sensible 
demonstrations.  Like  Thomas,  they  wanted  to  see  and/cc? 
before  they  believed.  In  other  words,  they  were  not  con- 
tent with  faith :  they  wanted  hiowledge.  And  there  are 
men  of  that  kind  still  in  the  world. 

And  the  darkness  and  clouds  which  the  Psalmist  saw 
around  the  providence  of  God  are  not  all  gone.  There  are 
many  things  in  connection  with  the  government  of  the 
world  that  are  hard  to  be  understood, — hard  to  be  reconciled 
by  many  with  their  ideas  of  what  is  right.  There  are 
mysteries  both  in  nature  and  in  history,  which  baffle  the 
minds  and  try  the  faith  of  the  best  and  wisest  of  our  race. 

3.  And  there  are  matters  in  connection  with  Christianity 
to  try  the  faith  of  men.  Like  its  great  Author,  when  it  first 
made  its  appearance,  it  had  "  neither  form  nor  comeliness  " 
in  the  eyes  of  many.  It  neither  met  the  expectations  of 
the"  selfish,  proud,  ambitious  Jew,  nor  of  the  disputatious, 
philosophic  Greek.  To  the  one  "  it  was  a  stumbling-block," 
and  to  the  other  "  foolishness."  And  there  have  been  men 
in  every  age,  who  have  been  unable  to  find  in  Christianity 
all  that  their  preconceived  notions  had  led  them  to  expect 
in  a  religion  from  Heaven.  There  are  men  still,  even 
among  the  sinccrcst  and  devoutest  friends  of  Christianity, 
who  are  puzzled  and  staggered  at  times  by  the  mysterious 
aspects  of  some  of  its  doctrines,  or  by  some  of  the  facts  con- 
nected with  its  history.  They  cannot  understand,  for  in- 
stance, how  it  is  tluit  it  has  not  spread  more  rapidly,  and 
become,  before  this,  the  religion  of  the  whole  world.  You 
tell  them  the  fault  is  in  its  disciples  and  ministers,  and  not 
in  Christianity  itself.  But  they  cannot  understand  why 
God  should  allow  the  success  of  a  system  so  important  to 
dej)cnd  on  faithless  or  fallible  men.  Nor  can  they  under- 
stand how  it  is  that  in  the  nations  in  which  the  Gospel  has 
been  received,  it  has  not  worked  a  greater  transformation  of 
character,  and  produced  a  happier  change  in  their  condi- 
tion. Plow  is  it,  they  ask,  that  it  has  not  extinguished  the 
spirit  of  war,  destroyed  the  sordid  lust  for  gain,  developed 
more  fully  the  spirit  of  self-sacrificing  generosity,  and  con- 
verted society  into  one  great  brotherhood  of  love  ?     How 


CAUSES   OF   UNBELIEF.  21 

is  it  that  the  Church  is  not  more  holy,  more  united,  and 
more  prosperous, — that  professors  and  teachers  of  Chris- 
tianity do  not  exhibit  more  of  the  Cliristian  character,  and 
follow  more  closely  the  example  of  the  meek  and  lowly,  the 
loving  and  laborious,  the  condescending  and  self-sacrificing 
Saviour  whose  name  they  bear?  The^s^are  amazed  that 
so  little  is  done  by  professing  Christians  to  save  the  perish- 
ing classes  ;  that  so  many  of  the  churches,  instead  of  grap- 
})ling  with  the  vice  and  wretchedness  of  our  large  towns, 
turn  their  backs  on  them,  build  their  churches  in  aristocra- 
tic neighborhoods  mostly,  and  compete  with  one  another 
for  the  favor  of  the  rich  and  powerful.  They  cannot  un- 
derstand how  it  is,  that  churches  and  ministers  do  not  exert 
themselves  more  for  the  extinction  of  drunkenness,  gam- 
bling, and  licentiousness,  and  for  the  suppression  of  all 
trades  and  customs  that  minister  to  sin.  It  startles  them 
to  see  to  what  a  fearful  extent  the  churches  have  allowed 
the  power  of  the  press,  which  once  was  all  their  own,  to 
pass  out  of  their  hands,  into  the  hands  of  selfish,  worldly, 
and  godless  adventurers.  These  matters  admit  of  explana- 
tion, but  there  are  many  to  whose  minds  the  explanation 
is  never  presented,  and  there  are  some  whom  nothing  will 
relieve  from  perplexity  and  doubt  but  a  grander  display  of 
Christian  zeal  and  philanthropic  eifort,  on  the  part  of  the 
churches,  for  the  regeneration  of  society. 

4.  Then  the  religion  of  Christ  is  not,  as  a  rule,  presented 
to  men  in  its  loveliest  and  most  winning,  or  in  its  grandest 
and  most  overpowering  form.  As  presented  in  the  teachings 
and  character  of  Christ,  Christianity  is  the  perfection  of 
wisdom  and  goodness,  the  most  glorious  revelation  of  God 
and  duty  the  mind  of  man  can  conceive :  but  as  presented 
in  the  ci'eeds,  and  chai'acters,  and  writings  of  many  of  its 
teachers  and  advocates,  it  has  neither  beauty,  nor  worth, 
nor  .credibility.  Some  teach  only  a  very  small  portion  of 
Christianity,  and  the  portion  they  teach  they  often  teach 
amiss.  Some  doctrines  they  exaggerate,  and  others  they 
maim.  Some  they  caricature,  distort,  or  pervert.  And 
many  add  to  the  Gospel  inventions  of  their  own,  or  foolish 
traditions  received  from  their  fathers ;  and  the  truth  is  hid 
under  a  mass  of  error.  Many  conceal  and  disfigure  the 
truth  by  putting  it  in  an  antiquated  and  outlandish  dress. 


22  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

The  language  of  many  theologians,  like  the  Latin  of  the 
Roraish  Church,  is,  to  vast  numbers,  a  dead  language, — an 
unknown  tongue.  There  are  hundreds  of  words  and  phrases 
used  by  preachers  and  religious  writers  which  neither  they 
ncjr  their  hearers  or  readers  understand.  In  some  of  them 
there  is  nothing  to  be  understood.  They  are  mere  words; 
meaningless  sounds.  Some  of  them  have  meanings,  but 
tliey  are  hard  to  come  at,  and  when  you  have  got  at  them 
you  find  them  to  be  worse  than  none.  They  are  falsehoods 
that  lurk  within  the  dark  and  antiquated  words.  I  have 
hoard  and  even  read  whole  sermons  in  which  nine  sentences 
out  of  ten  had  no  more  meaning  in  them  than  the  chatter 
of  an  ape.  Perhaps  not  so  much.  I  have  gone  through 
large  volumes  and  found  hardly  a  respectable,  plain-mean- 
ing sentence  from  beginning  to  end.  And  wagon  loads  of 
so-called  religious  books  may  still  be  found,  in  which,  as 
in  the  talk  of  one  of  Shakespeare's  characters,  the  ideas  are 
to  the  words  as  three  grains  of  wheat  to  a  bushel  of  chaff; 
you  may  search  for  them  all  day  before  you  find  them ; 
and  when  you  find  them  they  are  good  for  nothing.  AVhen 
I  first  came  across  such  books  I  supposed  it  was  my  igno- 
rance or  want  of  capacity  that  made  it  impossible  for  me  to 
understand  them;  but  I  found,  at  length,  that  there  was 
nothing  in  theni  to  understand.  There  are  other  books 
which  have  a  meaning,  a  good  meaning,  but  it  is  wrapped 
up  in  such  out-of-the-way  words  and  phrases,  that  it  is  dif- 
ficult to  get  at  it.  Men  of  science  have  not  only  discarded 
the  foolish  fictions  of  darker  ages,  but  have  begun  to  sim- 
plify their  language;  to  cast  aside  the  unspeakable  and  un- 
intelligible jargon  of  the  past,  and  to  use  })lain,  good,  com- 
mon English,  thus  rendering  the  study  of  nature  pleasant 
even  to  children;  while  many  divines,  by  clinging  to  the 
unmeaning  and  mischievous  phraseology  of  ancient  dream- 
er.-!, render  the  study  of  religion  repulsive,  and  the  attain- 
ment of  sound  Christian  knowledge  almost  impossible  to 
the  masses  of  mankind.  And  all  these  things  become  oc- 
casions of  unbelief.  "So  long  as  Christian  preachers  and 
writers  are  limited  so  much  to  human  creeds  and  systems, 
or  to  stereotyped  phrases  of  any  kind,  and  avail  themselves 
8o  little  of  the  popuhir  diction  of  literature  and  of  common 
life,  so  long  nuist  tlicy  repel  many  whom  they  miglit  con- 
vince and  win."     Dr.  Porter,  President  of  Yale  College. 


CAUSES   OF   UNBELIEF.  23 

5.  Then  again  :  the  divisions  of  the  Church,  and  the  un- 
charitable spirit  in  which  points  of  diifereuce  between  con- 
tending sects  are  discussed,  and  the  disjjosition  sometimes 
shown  by  religious  disputants  to  impugn  each  other's  mo- 
tives, to  call  each  other  offensive  names,  and  to  consign 
each  other  to  perdition,  are  occasions  of  stumbling  to  some. 

6.  And  again :  many  advocates  of  Christianity,  more 
zealous  than  wise,  say  more  about  the  Bible  and  Christianity 
than  is  true,  and  attempt  to  prove  points  whicli  do  not  ad- 
mit of  proof;  and  by  their  unguarded  assertions,  and  their 
failures  in  argument,  bring  the  truth  itself  into  discredit. 
Others  use  unsound  arguments  in  support  of  the  truth,  and 
when  men  discover  the  unsoundness  of  the  arguments,  they 
are  led  sometimes  to  suspect  the  soundness  of  the  doctrine 
in  behalf  of  which  they  are  employed.  The  pious  frauds 
of  ancient  and  modern  fanatics  have  proved  a  stumbling- 
block  to  thousands. 

Albert  Barnes  says,  "  There  is  no  class  of  men  that  are  so 
liable  to  rely  on  weak  and  inconclusive  reasonings  as 
preachers  of  the  Gospel.  Many  a  young  man  in  a  Theolo- 
gical Seminary  is  on  the  verge  of  infidelity  from  the  nature 
of  the  reasoning  employed  by  his  instructor  in  defence  of 
that  which  is  true,  and  which  might  be  well  defended  :_and 
many  a  youth  in  our  congregations  is  almost  or  quite  a 
skeptic,  not  because  he  wishes  to  be  so,  but  because  that 
which  is  true  is  supported  by  such  worthless  arguments." 

7.  Again;  theological  students  sometimes  adopt  erroneous 
principles  or  unwise  methods  of  reasoning  in  their  search 
after  truth,  and  do  not  discover  their  mistake  till  they  are 
landed  in  doubt  and  unbelief.  They  find  certain  principles 
laid  down  by  men  in  high  repute  for  science,  and  adopt 
them  without  hesitation,  not  considering  that  men  of  science 
are  sometimes  mad,  fimatical  infidels,  and  that  they  manu- 
facture principles  without  regard- to  truth,  for  the  simple  pur- 
pose of  undermining  men's  faith  in  God  and  religion.  Wri- 
ters on  science  of  one  school  tell  you,  that  in  your  study  of 
nature,  you  must  be  careful  never  to  admit  the  doctrine  of 
final  causes  ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  you  must  never  enter- 
tain the  idea  that  anything  in  nature  was  meant  to  answer 
any  particular  purpose.  You  must,  say  they,  if  you  would 
be  a  true  philosopher,  shut  out  from  your  mind  all  idea  of  de- 


24  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

sign  or  contrivance  in  the  works  of  nature.  You  must  just 
look  at  what  is,  and  not  ask  what  it  is  for.  You  may  find 
wonderful  adaptations  of  things  to  each  other,  all  tending  to 
happy  results ;  but  you  must  never  suppose  that  any  one 
ever  designed  or  planned  those  adaptations,  with  a  view  to 
those  happy  results.  You  must  confine  yourself  entirely 
to  what  you  see,  and  never  admit  the  thought  of  a  Maker 
whom  you  do  not  see.  You  must  limit  your  observations 
to  what  is  done,  and  not  dream  of  a  Doer.  You  may  see 
things  tending  to  the  diffusion  of  happiness,  but  must  not 
suppose  that  there  is  a  great  unseen  Benefactor,  who  gives 
them  this  blessed  tendency.  And  if  you  feel  in  yourself  a 
disposition  to  gratitude,  you  must  treat  it  as  a  foolish,  child- 
ish fancy,  and  suppress  it  as  irrational. 

A  sillier  or  a  more  contemptible  notion — a  notion  more 
opposed  to  true  philosophy  and  common  sense, — can  hard- 
ly be  conceived.  How  any  one  could  ever  have  the  ignor- 
ance or  the  impudence  to  propound  such  an  unnatural  and 
monstrous  absurdity  as  a  great  philosophical  principle, 
would  be  a  mystery,  if  we  did  not  know  how  infidelity  per- 
verts men's  understandings,  and,  while  puffing  them  up 
with  infinite  conceit  of  their  own  wisdom,  transforms  them 
into  the  most  arrant  and  outrageous  fools. 

Yet  this  monstrous  folly  has  found  its  way  into  books, 
and  papers,  and  reviews,  and,  through  them,  into  the 
minds  of  some  Christian  students ;  and  when  the  madness 
of  the  notion  is  not  detected,  it  destroys  their  faith,  and 
makes  them  miserable  infidels. 

Some  adopt  the  principle  that  reason  is  man's  only  guide, 
— that  reason  alone  is  judge  of  what  is  true  and  good,  and 
that  to  reason  every  thing  must  be  submitted,  and  received 
or  rejected,  done  or  left  undone,  as  reason  may  decide. 
This  sounds  very  plausible  to  many,  and  there  is  a  sense  in 
which  it  may  be  true ;  but  there  is  a  sense  in  which  it  is  fear- 
fully false ;  and  the  youth  that  adopts  it,  and  acts  upon  it, 
will  be  likely  to  land  himself  in  utter  doubt,  both  with  re- 
gard to  religion  and  morals.  There  are  numbers  of  cases  in 
which  reason  is  no  guide  at  all, — in  which  instinct,  natural 
aflPection,  and  consciousness  are  our  only  guides.  You  can 
never  prove  by  what  is  generally  called  reason  alone,  that 
man  is  not  a  machine,  governed  entirely  by  forces  over 


CAUSES   OF   UNBELIEF.  25 

which  he  has  no  control.  You  cannot  therefore  prove  by 
what  certain  philosophers  call  reason,  that  any  man  is 
worthy  of  reward  or  punishment,  of  praise  or  blame,  of 
gratitude  or  of  resentment ;  or  that  there  is  any  such  thing 
in  men  as  virtue  or  vice,  according  to  th^ordinary  sense  of 
the  words.  The  ablest  logicians  on  earth,  when  they  take 
reason  alone  as  their  guide,  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  liberty  or  moral  responsibility,  in 
the  ordinary  acceptation  of  the  terms,  but  that  all  is  fixed, 
that  all  is  fate,  from  eternity  to  eternity.  They  according- 
ly come  to  the  further  conclusion,  that  there  is  no  free, 
voluntary  Ruler  of  the  universe, — that  there  is  no  Almighty 
Judge  and  Rewarder, — that  there  is  neither  reward  nor 
punishment,  properly  speaking,  either  in  this  world  or  in 
the  world  to  come.     They  become  atheists. 

You  can  never  prove  by  reason  that  a  woman  ought  to 
love  her  own  child  better  than  the  child  of  another  woman. 
You  cannot  prove  by  reason  that  she  ought  to  love  it  at 
all.  You  may  say  no  children  would  be  reared  if  mothers 
did  not  love  their  children,  and  even  love  them  better  than 
the  children  of  other  mothers.  But  how  will  you  prove 
that  children  ouglit  to  be  reared  ?  Can  you  show  that  the 
mother  will  confer  any  advantage  on  her  child,  or  secure 
any  advantage  to  herself,  or  any  one  else,  by  rearing  it  ? 
Can  you  prove  that  it  will  not  be  a  torment  to  her, — that 
it  will  not  bring  her  to  want,  and  shame,  and  an  untimely 
death  ?  The  fact  is,  a  mother's  love,  a  mother's  partiality 
for  her  own  child,  is  not  a  matter  of  reason.  The  hen  loves 
her  chickens,  the  she  bear  loves  its  cubs,  the  mother  dog 
loves  its  whelps,  and  the  ewe  loves  her  lambs,  without  any 
regard  to  reason.  Their  affections  and  preferences  are 
governed  by  something  infinitely  wiser  than  reason ;  infi- 
nitely higher,  at  least,  than  any  reason  that  man  can  boast. 
And  men  love  women,  and  women  love  men,  and  men  and 
women  marry  and  form  new  families,  not  at  the  bidding  of 
reason,  but  under  the  influence  of  instincts  or  impulses  that 
come  from  a  wisdom  infinitely  higher  than  the  wisdom  of 
the  wisest  man  on  earth.  And  so  it  is  with  many  of  our  be- 
liefs. They  are  instinctive ;  and  reason,  when  it  becomes 
reasonable  enough  to  deserve  the  name,  Avill  advise  you  to 
cherish  those  instinctive  beliefs  as  your  life,  in  spite  of  all 
the  infidel  philosophy  and  reasoning  on  earth. 


26  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

But  even  honest  and  well-disposed  men  of  science  some- 
times form  bad,  defective,  or  one-sided  habits  of  thought 
and  judgment  unconsciously,  which  render  it  impossible  for 
them  to  do  justice  either  to  Nature  or  Christianity  as  reve- 
lations of  the  character  and  government  of  God.  And  these 
faulty  habits  of  thought  and  judgment,  and  the  anti-Chris- 
tian conclusions  to  which  they  lead,  pass  on  from  men  of 
science  to  literary  men  ;  and  literature  is  vitiated,  and  books 
and  periodicals  which  should  lead  men  to  truth,  cause 
them  to  err.  Thus  skeptical  principles  pervade  society. 
They  find  advocates  at  times  even  among  men  who  call 
themselves  ministers  of  Christ.  The  consequence  is,  that 
well-disposed,  and  even  pious  young  men,  are  perplexed, 
bewildered,  and  some  who,  like  John  the  Baptist,  were 
"  burning  and  shining  lights,"  become  "  wandering  stars," 
and  lose  themselves,  for  a  time  at  least,  amidst  the  "  black- 
ness and  darkness  "  of  doubt  and  despair. 


CHAPTER  III. 

ANOTHER   CAUSE   OF   UNBELIEF — BAD   FEELING. 
THE   author's   CASE. 

THERE  are  several  other  causes  of  doubt  and  unbelief 
which  we  might  name,  if  we  had  time ;  but  we  have  not. 
There  is  one  however  which  we  must  notice,  because  it  had 
considerable  influence  in  our  own  case;  we  refer  to  the 
bad  feeling  which  sometimes  takes  possession  of  the  minds 
of  Christians  towards  each  other,  or  of  the  minds  of  minis- 
ters towards  tlieir  brother  ministers. 

You  are  aware,  perhaps,  that  if  you  scratch  the  skin,  and 
introduce  a  little  diseased  animal  matter  to  the  blood,  it  will 
gradually  spread  itself  through  thesystem,and  in  time  poison 
the  whole  body.  And  if  you  do  not  know  this,  you  know, 
that  if  you  take  a  little  leaven,  and  place  it  in  a  mass  of 
meal,  and  leave  it  there  to  work  unchecked,  it  will  in  time 
leaven  the  whole  lump.  And  as  it  is  with  things  natural, 
so  it  is  witli  things  spiritual.  If  you  allow  a  little  leaven 
of  bad  feeling  to  get  into  your  minds  towards  your  fellow 


ANOTHER   CAUSE   OF   UNBELIEF.  27 

Christians  or  your  brother  ministers,  and  permit  it  to  re- 
main there,  it  will  in  time  infect  your  whole  soul,  impair 
the  action  of  all  its  faculties,  and  after  alienating  you  from 
individuals,  separate  you  first  from  the  Church,  and  then 
from  Christ  and  Christianity.  -^ 

There  is  a  passage  in  the  Bible  which  says  that  judges 
are  not  to  take  gifts ;  and  the  reason  assigned  is,  not  that 
if  a  judge  accepts  a  present  he  will,  with  his  eyes  open, 
wilfully  condemn  the  innocent  or  acquit  the  guilty ;  but 
that  "  a  gift  blindeth  the  eyes,''  even  "  of  the  wise,"  so  that 
he  is  no  longer  able  to  see  clearly  which  is  the  guilty  and 
which  the  guiltless  party.  And  there  is  another  passage 
in  the  Bible  which  says  that  "  oppression  driveth  a  wise 
man  mad."  The  feeling  a  man  has  that  he  has  been  wickedly, 
cruelly  treated,  excites  his  mind  so  painfully  and  violently, 
that  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  think  well  of  the  character 
or  views  of  his  oppressor,  or  of  any  party,  institution,  or 
system  with  which  he  may  be  connected. 

As  some  friends  of  mine  were  canvassing  for  votes  one 
day,  previous  to  an  election,  they  came  upon  a  man  who 
could  not,  for  a  time,  say  for  which  candidate  he  would 
vote.  At  length  a  thought  struck  him,  and  he  said,  "  Who 
is  John  Myers  going  to  vote  for  ?"  "  Oh,"  said  my  friends, 
"  he's  going  to  vote  for  our  man."  "  Then  I'll  vote  for  the 
other  man,"  said  he,  "  for  I'm  sure  Myers  will  vote  wrong." 
Myers  had  swindled  him  in  a  business  transaction ;  and  his 
feelings  towards  him  were  so  strong,  and  of  so  unj^leasant  a 
kind,  that  he  could  not  think  anything  right  that  Myers 
did,  nor  could  he  think  anything  wrong  that  he  himself 
did,  so  long  as  he  took  care  to  go  contrary  to  Myers. 

It  is  very  natural  to  smile  at  such  weakness  when  we  see 
it  in  others,  and  yet  exhibit  unconsciously  the  same  weak- 
ness ourselves  under  another  form.  There  are  some  Christians 
who,  when  their  minister  pleases  them  well,  are  quite  de- 
lighted with  his  discourses.  They  are  "  marrow  and  fatness  " 
to  their  souls.  And  every  sermon  he  preaches  seems  better 
than  the  one  that  went  before  ;  and  they  feel  as  if  they 
could  sit  under  that  dear  good  man  for  ever.  But  a  change 
comes  over  their  feelings  with  regard  to  him.  While  going 
his  round  of  pastoral  visits  some  day,  he  passes  their  door, 
but  calls  at  the  house  of  a  richer  neighbor  a  little  lower 


28  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

down :  or  on  visiting  the  Sunday-school,  he  pats  some  one's 
little  boy  on  the  head,  and  speaks  to  him  kind  and  plea- 
sant words,  while  he  passes  their  little  son  unnoticed.  He  has 
no  improper  design  in  what  he  does ;  but  it  happens  so ; 
that  is  all.  The  idea  of  partiality  never  enters  his  mind. 
But  they  fancy  he  has  got  something  wrong  in  his  mind 
towards  them ;  and  it  is  certain  now  that  they  have  got 
something  wrong  in  their  minds  towards  him.  And  now 
his  sermons  are  quite  changed.  The  "  marrow  and  fat- 
ness "  are  all  gone,  and  there  is  nothing  left  but  "  the  husks 
which  the  swine  should  eat."  And  every  sermon  he 
preaches  seems  worse  than  the  one  which  went  before,  until 
at  length  they  get  quite  weary,  and  their  only  comfort  is,  if 
they  be  Methodists,  that  Conference  will  come  some  day, 
and  they  will  have  a  change.  And  all  this  time  the 
preacher  is  just  the  same  good  man  he  ever  was,  and  his 
sermons  are  the  same  ;  only  iliey  are  changed.  They  have 
misjudged  him,  and  become  the  subjects  of  unhappy  feeling, 
and  are  no  longer  capable  of  doing  either  him  or  his  ser- 
mons justice. 

And  the  longer  the  unhappy  feeling  is  allowed  to  remain 
in  their  minds,  the  stronger  it  will  become,  and  the  more 
mischievous  will  it  prove.  After  disabling  or  perverting 
their  judgments  with  regard  to  their  pastor,  it  will  be  in 
danger  of  separating  them  from  the  Church;  and  when  once 
they  get  out  of  the  Church  into  the  outside  world,  no  won- 
der if  they  make  shipwreck  both  of  faith  and  of  a  good 
conscience. 

And  so  it  is  continually.  Our  views  of  men's  characters, 
talents,  sentiments,  are  always  more  or  less  influenced  by 
our  feelings  and  affections.  If  we  like  a  man  very  much, 
we  look  on  his  views  in  the  most  favorable  light,  and  are 
glad  to  sec  anything  like  a  reason  for  adopting  them  our- 
selves. We  give  his  words  and  deeds  the  most  favorable 
interpretation,  and  we  rate  his  gifts  and  graces  above  their 
real  value.  On  the  other  hand,  if  we  dislike  a  man, — if 
we  are  led  to  regard  him  as  an  enemy,  and  to  harbor  feel- 
ings of  resentment  towards  him,  we  look  on  what  he  says 
and  does  with  distrust;  we  suspect  his  motives  ;  we  under- 
rate his  talents,  and  arc  pleased  to  have  an  excuse  for 
differing  from  him  in  opinion. 


THE  author's  case.  29 

"We  see  proofe  of  this  power  of  feeling  and  affection  over 
the  judgment  on  every  hand.  The  mother  of  that  ordinary- 
looking  and  troublesome  child  thinks  it  the  most  beautiful 
and  engaging  little  creature  under  heaven;  while  she 
wonders  how  people  can  have  patience  wijtJi  her  neighbor's 
child,  which,  in  truth,  is  quite  a  cherub  or  an  angel  com- 
pared with  her's.  You  know  how  it  is  Avith  natural  light. 
You  sit  inside  an  ancient  cathedral,  and  the  light  from  the 
bright  shining  sun  streams  in  through  the  painted  windows. 
Outside  the  cathedral  the  light  is  all  pure  white ;  but  in- 
side, as  it  falls  upon  the  pulpit,  the  pillars,  the  pews  and 
the  people,  it  is  purple,  orange,  violet,  blue,  red,  or  green, 
according  to  the  color  of  the  glass  through  which  it  passes. 
It  is  the  same  with  moral  or  spiritual  light ;  it  takes  the 
tint  or  hue  of  the  painted  windows  of  our  passions  and  pre- 
judices, our  likes  and  dislikes,  through  which  it  enters  our 
minds.  The  light  that  finds  its  way  into  men's  minds, 
says  Bacon,  is  never  pure,  white  light ;  but  light  colored 
by  the  medium  through  which  it  passes.  Look  where  we 
will,  whether  into  books  or  into  the  living  world,  we  see 
differences  of  opinion  on  men  and  things  that  can  be  ac- 
counted for  on  no  other  principle  than  that  the  judgments 
of  people  are  influenced  by  their  passions  and  feelings,  their 
prejudices  and  interests.  The  Royalists  looked  on  Crom- 
well through  spectacles  of  hate  and  vengeance,  and  saw  a 
monster  of  hypocrisy  and  blood.  The  Puritans  looked  at 
him  through  spectacles  of  revolutionary  fanaticism,  and 
saw  a  glorious  saint  and  hero.  The  clergy  looked  on  Non- 
conformists through  conservative  glasses,  and  saw  a  rabble 
of  fanatics  and  rebels.  The  Nonconformists  looked  on  the 
clergy  through  revolutionary  glasses,  and  saw  a  host  of 
superstitious  formalists,  and  blind,  persecuting  Pharisees." 
The^  nian  who  looks  through  the  unstained  glasses  of  im- 
partiality, sees  much  that  is  good,  and  something  that  is 
not  good,  in  all. 

Who,  that  knows  much  of  human  nature,  expects  Catho- 
lics to  judge  righteously  of  Protestants,  or  Protestants  to 
judge  righteously  of  Catholics  ?  Who,  that  knows  any- 
thing of  the  world,  expects  revolutionary  Radicals  to  do 
justice  to^  the  characters  and  motives  of  Conservatives,  or 
,  ejected  Irishmen  to  see  anything  in  Englishmen  but  robbers 


30  '  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

and  tyrants  ?  I  know  that  all  this  is  great  weakness,  but 
where  is  the  man  that  is  not  weak  ?  The  man  who  thinks 
himself  free  from  this  weakness,  has  probably  a  double 
share  of  it.  The  man  who  is  really  strong  is  some  one 
who  is  keenly  sensible  of  his  weakness,  and  who  feels  that 
his  sufficiency  is  of  God.  Weakness  and  humanity  are  one. 
I  dwell  the  longer  on  this  point  because,  as  I  have  al- 
ready intimated,  a  right  understanding  of  it  will  go  far 
towards  explaining  the  disastrous  change  which  took  place 
in  my  own  mind  with  regard  to  Christianity.  One  great 
cause  of  my  separation  from  the  Church,  and  then  of  my 
estrangement  from  Christ,  was  the  influence  of  bad  feeling 
M-hich  took  possession  of  my  mind  towards  a  number  of  my 
brother  ministers. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

ORIGIN   OF   THE   UNHAPPY    FEELING CHARACTERISTICS 

OF   THE   author's   MIND — RATIONALIZING  TENDENCY. 

HOW  came  I  to  be  the  subject  of  this  bad  feeling  ?  I 
will  tell  you. 
As  a  young  minister  I  had  two  or  three  marked  ten- 
dencies. One  may  be  called  a  rationalizing  tendency. 
I  was  anxious,  in  the  first  place,  clearly  to  understand  all 
my  professed  beliefs,  and  to  be  able,  in  the  second  place,  to 
make  them  plain  to  others.  I  never  liked  to  travel  in  a 
fog,  wrapped  round  as  with  a  blinding  cloud,  unable  either 
to  see  my  way,  or  to  get  a  view  of  the  things  with  which 
I  was  •surrounded.  I  liked  a  clear,  bright  sky,  with  the 
sun  shining  full  upon  my  path,  and  gladdening  my  eyes 
with  a  view  of  a  thousand  interesting  objects.  And  so 
with  regard  to  spiritual  matters.  I  never  Irked  to  travel 
in  theological  fogs.  They  j^rcssed  on  me  at  the  outset  of 
my  religious  life,  on  every  side,  hiding  from  my  view  the 
wonders  and  the  glories  of  God's  word  and  works ;  but  I 
never  rested  in  the  darkness.  I  longed  and  ])raycd  for 
light  with  all  my  soul,  and  sought  for  it  with  all  my 
powers.     Regarding  the  Bible  as  God's  Book,  given  to 


ORIGIN   OF   THE   UNHAPPY   FEELING.  31 

man  for  his  instruction  and  salvation,  I  resolved,  by  God's 
help,  to  find  out  both  what  it  said  and  what  it  meant,  on 
every  important  point  of  truth  and  duty. 

1.  I  became  sensible,  very  early  in  life,  that  the  doctrines 
I  had  received  from  my  teachers  were,  in  some  cases,  in- 
consistent with  each  other,  and  that  they  ??buld  not  there- 
fore all  be  true ;  and  I  was  anxious  to  get  rid  of  this 
inconsistency,  and  to  bring  the  whole  of  my  beliefs  into 
harmony  with  each  other. 

2.  I  was  also  anxious  to  bring  my  views  into  agreement 
with  the  teachings  of  Christ  and  His  Apostles.  I  wished 
every  article  of  my  belief  to  rest,  not  on  the  word  of  man, 
but  on  the  word  of  God.  I  believed  it  to  be  my  duty  to 
come  as  near  to  Christ  as  possible,  both  in  my  views  and 
character.  And  I  wished  my  style  of  preaching  and  teach- 
ing to  be,  like  His,  the  perfection  of  plainness  and  simpli- 
city. I  felt  that  my  chief  mission  was  to  the  masses, — that 
I  was  called  especially  to  preach  and  teach  the  Gospel  to 
the  poor ;  and  it  was  my  wish  to  be  able  to  make  it  plain 
to  people  of  the  most  defective  education,  and  of  the  hum- 
blest capacity. 

3.  I  was  further  wishful  to  see  an  agreement  between  the 
doctrines  which  I  gathered  from  the  Sacred  Scriptures,  and 
the  oracles  which  came  to  me  from  the  works  of  God  in 
nature.  If  nature  and  Christianity  were  from  the  same 
All-perfect  God,  as  I  believed,  their  voices  must  be  one. 
Their  lessons  of  truth  and  duty  must  agree.  They  must 
have  the  same  end  and  tendency.  Christian  precepts  must 
be  in  harmony  with  man's  mental  and  bodily  constitution. 
They  must  be  conducive  to  the  development  of  all  man's 
powers ;  to  the  perfection  and  happiness  of  his  whole  being. 
They  must  be  friendly  to  the  improvement  of  his  con- 
dition. They  must  favor  every  thing  that  is  conducive 
to  his  personal  and  domestic  happiness,  and  to  the  social 
and  national  welfare  of  the  whole  human  race.  And  the 
doctrines  of  Christianity  must  be  in  harmony  with  the  con- 
stitution, and  laws,  and  phenomena  of  the  visible  universe. 
If  there  be  one  Great,  All-perfect  Creator  and  Governor 
of  the  world  and  of  man,  then  man  and  the  universe,  the 
universe  and  religion,  science  and  revelation,  philosophy 
and  Christianity,  the  laws  of  nature  and  the  laws  of  Christ, 


32  MODERN   SKEPTICISM.       . 

must  all  be  one.     I  wanted  to  see  this  oneness,  and  to  feel 
the  sweet  sense  of  it  in  my  soul. 

4.  I  wanted  further  to  see  the  foundations  on  which  my 
belief  in  God  and  Christ  and  in  the  Sacred  Scriptures  rested, 
that  I  might  be  able  to  justify  my  belief  both  to  myself 
and  to  others.  I  wished  to  have  the  fullest  evidence  and 
assurance  of  the  truth  of  Christianity  I  could  get,  that  I 
might  both  feel  at  rest  and  happy  myself,  and  be  able  to 
give  rest  and  comfort  to  the  souls  of  others. 

5.  With  these  objects  in  view  I  set  to  work.  I  prayed  to 
God,  the  Great  Father  of  lights,  and  the  Giver  of  every 
good  and  perfect  gift,  to  lead  me  into  all  truth,  and  to  fur- 
nish me  to  every  good  work.  I  read  the  Bible  with  the 
greatest  care.  I  searched  it  through  and  through.  I 
studied  it  daily,  desirous  to  learn  the  whole  scope  and  sub- 
stance of  its  teachings,  on  every  point  both  of  truth  and 
duty.  I  marked  on  the  margin  of  the  pages  all  those 
passages  that  struck  me  by  their  peculiar  clearness,  and 
their  fulness  of  important  meaning.  These  passages  I  read 
over  again  and  again,  till  I  got  great  numbers  of  them  off 
by  heart.  I  gave  each  passage  a  particular  mark  according 
to  the  subject  on  which  it  treated.  I  then  copied  the  whole 
of  these  passages  into  large  Note  Books,  placing  all  that 
spake  on  any  particular  subject  together.  I  also  arranged 
the  passages  so  far  as  I  was  able,  in  their  natural  order,  that 
they  might  throw  light  on  one  another,  and  present  the 
subject  on  which  they  treated,  in  as  full  and  intelligible  a 
light  as  possible.  I  divided  the  pages  of  my  Note  Books 
into  two  columns,  placing  the  passages  which  favored  one 
view  of  a  subject  in  the  first  column,  and  those  which 
seemed  to  favor  a  different  view  in  the  second.  I  placed 
in  those  Note  Books  passages  on  matters  of  duty,  as  well 
as  on  matters  of  truth.  In  this  way  I  got  nearly  all  the 
plainer  and  more  important  portions  of  the  Bible  arranged 
in  something  like  systematic  order.  Having  done  this,  I 
went  tiirough  my  Books,  and  put  down  in  writing  all  that 
the  })assagcs  plainly  taught,  and  marked  the  bearing  of 
their  teachings  on  the  various  articles  of  my  creed,  with  a 
view  to  bringing  my  creed,  and  the  teachings  of  Scripture, 
into  agreement  with  each  other. 

6.  To  help  me  in  these  my  labors,  and  to  secure  myself 


THEOLOGICAL    INVESTIGATIONS.  33 

as  far  as  possible  from  seri.ous  error,  I  read  a  multitude  of 
other  books,  on  almost  every  subject  of  importance,  by  au- 
thors of  almost  all  varieties  of  creeds.  I  read  commen- 
taries, sermons,  bodies  of  divinity,  and  a  host  of  treatises 
on  various  points.  To  the  best  of  my  ability  I  examined 
the  Scriptures  in  the  original  languages,  aa**\vell  as  in  a 
number  of  translations,  both  ancient  and  modern,  including 
several  Latin  and  French  versions,  four  German  ones,  and 
all  the  English  ones  that  came  in  my  way.  I  had  a  num- 
ber of  Lexicons,  and  of  Theological  and  Bible  Dictionaries 
of  which  I  made  free  use.  I  went  through  the  Commen- 
taries of  Baxter,  Wesley  and  Adam  Clarke  with  the  greatest 
care,  as  well  as  through  a  huge  and  somewhat  heterddox, 
but  able  and  excellent  work,  published  by  Goadby,  entitled, 
Illustrations  of  the  Saered  8crij)tu7'es.  I  do  not  think  I 
missed  a  single  sentence  in  these  commentaries,  or  passed 
unweighed  a  single  word. 

I  read  and  studied  the  writings  of  Wesley  generally,  and 
the  works  of  Fletcher,  Benson  and  Watson.  I  read  Hooker 
and  Taylor  also,  and  Wilkins,  and  Barrow,  and  Tillotson, 
and  Butler,  and  Burnet,  and  Pearson,  and  Hoadley.  I  read 
the  writings  of  Baxter  almost  continually.  I  went  through, 
not  only  the  whole  of  his  voluminous  practical  works,  but 
many  of  his  doctrinal  and  controversial  ones,  including  his 
Catholic  Theology,  his  Aphorisms  on  Justification,  his 
Confessions,  and  his  most  elaborate,  comprehensive  and 
wonderful  work  of  all,  his  Methodus  Theologice,  in  Latin. 
In  Baxter  alone  I  had  a  world  of  materials  for  thought, 
on  almost  every  religious  and  moral  subject  that  can  engage 
the  mind  of  man.  And  on  almost  every  subject  of  im- 
portance his  thoughts  seemed  rich  and  wholesome,  scriptural 
and  rational  in  the  highest  degree.  His  Christian  spirit 
held  me  captive,  and  I  never  got  tired  of  his  earnest,  elo- 
quent, and  godly  talk.  Even  the  old  and  endless  contro- 
versies on  which  he  spent  so  much  time  and  strength, 
were  often  rendered  interesting  by  the  honesty  of  his  heart, 
by  the  abundance  of  his  charity,  by  the  moderation  of  his 
views,  and  by  the  never-failing  good  sound  sense  of  his 
remarks.  None  of  the  works  I  read  had  such  a  charm  for 
me  as  those  of  Baxter,  and  no  other  religious  writer  exerted 
so  powerful  and  lasting  an  influence  either  on  my  head  or 
3 


34  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

heart.  Taylor  was  too  flowery,  and  Barrow  too  wordy, 
and  Tillotson  was  rather  cold  and  formal ;  yet  I  read  them 
all  with  profit,  and  with  a  great  amount  of  pleasure. 
Hooker  I  found  a  wonder,  both  for  excellency  of  style  and 
richness  of  sentiment ;  and  his  piety  and  wisdom,  his  can- 
dor and  his  charity,  have  never  been  surpassed  since  the 
days  of  Christ  and  His  Apostles.  And  Hoadley  too  I 
liked,  and  Butler,  and  Thomas  a  Kempis,  and  William 
Law.  And  then  came  Bolton  and  Howe,  and  Doddridge 
and  Watts.  Then  Penn,  and  Barclay,  and  Clarkson,  and 
Sewell,  and  Hales,  and  Dell  caught  my  attention,  giving 
me  interesting  revelations  of  Quaker  thouglit  and  feeling. 

And  I  was  edified  by  Lactantius  and  Chrysostom,  the 
most  eloquent,  rational  and  practical  of  the  Christian  Fa- 
thers. By  and  by  came  Priestley  and  Price,  and  Dr.  John 
Taylor,  and  W.  E.  Channing,  and  a  host  of  others  of  the 
modern  school  of  heterodox  writers.  I  also  read  a  number 
of  celebrated  French  authors,  including  Bossuet  and  Bour- 
daloue,  Flechier  and  Massillon,  Pascal  and  Fcnelon,  and  the 
eloquent,  Protestant  preacher  and  author,  M.  Saurin.  I 
read  the  principal  works  both  of  Catholics  and  Protestants, 
of  the  Fathers  and  Reformers,  of  Churchmen  and  Dissen- 
ters, of  Quakers  and  Mystics,  of  Methodists  and  Calvinists, 
of  Unitarians  and  Infidels. 

I  read  several  works  on  Law  and  Government,  including 
Puifcndorf 's  Law  of  Nature,  Grotius  on  the  Laws  of  Peace 
and  War,  Bodin  on  Government,  Montesquieu's  Spirit  of 
Laws,  Blackstone's  Commentaries,  and  Jeremy  Taylor's 
Ductor  Dubitantium.  I  had  read  works  on  Anatomy, 
Physiology  and  Medicine,  when  I  could  get  hold  of  them, 
from  the  time  when  I  was  only  twelve  years  old.  I  never 
went  far  into  any  other  sciences,  yet  I  studied,  to  some  ex- 
tent. Astronomy,  Geology,  Physical  Geography,  Botany, 
Natural  History,  and  Anthropology.  I  read  Wesley's  pub- 
lication on  Natural  Philosophy,  and  I  gave  more  or  less 
attention  to  every  work  on  science  and  natural  ])hilosophy 
that  came  in  my  way.  Works  on  natural  religion  and  na- 
tural tlieology,  in  which  science  was  taught  and  used  in 
subservience  to  Christian  truth  and  duty,  I  read  whenever 
I  could  get  hold  of  them.  They  interested  me  exceedingly. 
For  works  on  Painting,  Sculpture,  Architecture,  I  had  not 


THEOLOGICAL   INVESTIGATIONS.  35 

the  least  regard.  They  seemed  to  have  no  tendency  to  help 
me  in  the  work  in  which  I  was  engaged,  and  I  had  no  de- 
sire to  talk-  respectable  nonsense  on  such  subjects.  I  was 
fond  of  Ecclesiastical  and  Civil  History,  and  read  most  greed- 
ily such  works  as  threw  light  on  the  progress  of  society  in 
learning,  science,  and  useful  arts;  in  freedom,  morals,  reli- 
gion and  government.  I  read  many  of  the  works  of  the 
ancient  Greeks  and  Romans,  and  the  history  of  the  wonder- 
ful periods  in  which  they  flourished.  I  was  especially  fond 
of  Cicero,  Seneca,  and  Epictetus.  All  subjects  bearing  on 
the  great  interests  of  mankind,  and  all  works  revealing  the 
workings  of  the  human  mind  and  the  laws  of  human  na- 
ture, seemed  to  me  to  bear  important  relations  to  religion 
and  the  Bible;  and  the  writings  of  the  great  philosophers, 
lawyers,  and  historians,  appeared  to  be  almost  as  much  in 
my  line  as  Baxter's  Christian  Directory,  or  Wesley's  Notes 
on  the  New  Testament. 

Tales  of  wars  and  intrigues,  and  of  royal  and  aristocratic 
vices  and  follies  I  hated.  Yet  I  was  interested  in  accounts 
of  religious  controversies,  and  read  with  eagerness,  though 
with  pain  and  horror,  the  tragic  and  soul-harrowing  stories 
of  the  deadly  conflicts  between  Christian  piety  and  anti- 
Christian  intolerance.  Above  all  I  loved  well-written 
books  on  the  beneficial  influence  of  Christianity  on  the 
temporal  interests  and  the  general  happiness  of  mankind. 
I  liked  good  biographies,  especially  of  celebrated  students,, 
great  philosophers,  and  remarkable  Christian  philanthro- 
pists. Of  works  of  fiction  I  read  very  few,  and  evermore 
still  fewer  as  I  got  older,  until  at  length  I  came  to  view 
them  generally  as  a  great  nuisance.  There  are  few,  I  sup- 
pose, that  can  say  they  read  the  whole,  not  only  of  Wesley's 
works,  but  of  his  Christian  Library,  in  fifty  volumes ;  yet 
I  went  through  the  whole,  though  one  of  the  books  was  so 
profound,  or  else  so  silly,  that  I  could  not  find  one  sentence 
in  it  that  I  could  properly  understand.  I  read  the  greater 
part  of  the  books  of  my  friends.  I  went  through  nearly 
the  whole  library  of  a  village  about  two  miles  distant  from 
my  native  place.  My  native  place  itself  could  not  boast  a 
library  in  those  days.  I  read  scores,  if  not  hundreds  of 
books  that  taught  me  nothing  but  the  ignorance  and  self- 
conceit  of  the  writers,  and  the  various  forms  of  literary  and 
religious  insanity  to  which  poor  weak  humanity  is  liable. 


36  MODERN   SKEPTICISAf. 

There  was  a  large  old  Free  Library  at  Newcastle-on- 
Tyne,  left  to  the  city  by  a  celebrated  clergyman,  M'hich 
contained  all  the  Fathers,  all  the  Greek  and  Roman 
Classics,  all  the  more  celebrated  of  the  old  Infidels,  all  the 
old  leading  skeptical  and  lawless  writers  of  Italy,  and 
France,  and  Holland,  all  the  great  old  Church  of  England 
writers,  and  all  the  leading  writers  of  the  Nonconformists, 
Dissenters,  and  Heretics  of  all  kinds.  To  this  library  I 
used  to  go,  day  after  day,  and  stay  from  morning  to  night, 
reading  some  of  the  great  authors  through,  and  examining 
almost  all  of  them  sufficiently  to  enable  me  to  see  what 
there  was  in  each,  that  I  had  not  met  with  in  the  rest. 
Here  I  read  Hobbes  and  Machiavel,  Bolingbroke  and 
Shaftesbury,  Tindal  and  Chubb.  Here  I  first  saw  the 
works  of  Cudworth  and  Chillingworth,  and  here  too  I 
first  found  the  entire  works  of  Bacon  and  Newton,  of  Locke 
and  Boyle.  Here  also  I  read  the  works  of  some  of  the 
older  defenders  of  the  faith.  Grotius  on  the  truth  of  the 
Christian  religion  I  had  read  much  earlier.  I  had  used  it  as 
a  school  book,  translating  it  both  out  of  Latin  into  English, 
and  out  of  English  back  into  Latin,  imjjrinting  it  thereby 
almost  word  for  word  upon  my  memory.  I  had  also  read  the 
work  of  his  commentator  on  the  causes  of  incredulity.  Le- 
land  on  the  deistical  writers,  and  Paley's  Evidences,  and 
others,  I  read  after.  But  in  this  great  old  library  I  met 
with  numbers  of  interesting  and  important  works  that  I 
have  never  met  with  since.  And  here,  in  the  dimly  lighted 
antiquated  rooms,  I  used  to  fill  my  mind  with  a  world  of 
facts,  and  thoughts,  and  fancies,  and  then  go  away  to  me- 
ditate upon  them  while  travelling  on  my  way,  or  sitting  in 
my  room,  or  lying  on  my  bed.  Day  and  night,  alone  and 
in  company,  these  were  the  things  which  filled  my  mind 
and  exorcised  my  thoughts. 

And  I'.aving  a  rather  retentive  memory,  and  considerable 
powers  of  imagination,  I  was  able  at  times  to  bring  almost 
all  the  things  of  importance  which  I  had  met  Avith  in  my 
reading,  before  my  mind,  and  compare  them  both  with 
each  other,  and  with  all  that  was  already  in  my  memory. 
And  M'hatever  ajipearcd  to  me  most  rational,  most  scrip- 
tural, I  treasured  for  future  use,  allowing  the  rest  to  drift 
away  into  forgetfulness. 


THEOLpGICAL,   INVESTIGATIONS.  37 

No  one  can  imagine  the  happiness  I  found  in  this  my 
search  after  truth,  except  those  who  have  experienced  the 
like.  I  seemed  at  times  to  live  in  a  region  of  the  highest 
and  divinest  bliss.  Every  fresh  discovery  of  truth,  every 
detection  of  old  error,  every  enlargemei^t  of  my  views, 
brought  unspeakable  rapture  ;  and  had  it  not  been  for  the 
narrow-mindedness  of  some  of  my  friends,  the  restraints  of 
established  creeds,  and  the  thought  of  the  trials  which  my 
mental  revels  might  some  day  bring  on  me  and  my  family, 
my  life  would  have  been  a  heaven  on  earth. 

Perhaps  I  read  too  much,  or  too  greedily  and  variously. 
"Would  it  not  in  any  case  have  been  better  for  me  to  have 
refrained  from  reading  the  writings  of  such  a  licet  of  here- 
tics, infidels,  and  mere  natural  philosophers  ?  It  is  cer- 
tain that  what  I  attempted  was  too  much  for  my  powers, 
and  too  vast  for  one  man's  life.  But  I  was  not  sufficiently 
conscious  of  the  infinitude  of  truth,  or  of  the  narrow  limits 
of  my  powers,  or  of  the  infinite  mysteries  of  which  humanity 
and  the  universe  are  full.  And  my  desire  for  knowledge 
was  infinite,  and  my  appetite  was  very  keen,  and  I  was  so 
desirous  to  be  right  on  every  subject  bearing  on  the  reli- 
gion of  Christ,  and  on  the  great  interests  of  mankind,  that 
nothing  that  I  could  do  seemed  too  much  if  it  seemed  like- 
ly to  help  me  in  the  attainment  of  my  object. 

Then  I  had  no  considerate  and  enlightened  guide ;  no 
friend,  no  colleague,  with  a  father's  heart,  to  direct  me  in 
my  studies  or  my  choice  of  books.  There  was  one  minister 
in  the  Body  to  which  I  belonged  that  might  have  given 
me  good  counsel,  if  he  had  been  at  hand,  but  he  and  I  were 
never  stationed  in  the  same  neighborhood.  And  he  had 
suffered  so  much  on  account  of  his  superior  intelligence 
and  liberal  tendencies,  that  he  might  have  felt  unwilling  to 
advise  me  freely.  The  preachers  generally  could  not  un- 
derstand me,  and  the}'-  had  no  sympathy  with  my  eager 
longings  for  religious  knowledge.  They  could  not  com- 
prehend what  in  the  world  I  could  want  beyond  their  OM'n 
old  stereotyped  notions  and  phrases,  and  the  comfortable 
provision  made  for  the  supply  of  my  temporal  Avants. 
Why  could  I  not  check  my  thinking,  enjoy  my  popularity, 
and  rejoice  in  the  success  of  my  labors  ?  And  when  I  could 
not  take  their  flij)pant  counsels,  they  had  nothing  left  but 


38  MODERN   SKEPTICIS^kf 

hints  at  unpleasant  consequences.  There  was  nothing  for 
me  therefore,  but  to  follow  the  promptings  of  my  own  in- 
satiate soul,  and  travel  on  alone  in  the  fear  of  God,  hoping 
that  things  would  get  better,  and  my  prospects  grow 
brighter  by  and  by. 

So  I  moved  on  in  my  own  track,  still  digging  for  truth 
as  for  silver,  and  searching  for  it  as  for  hidden  treasure. 
And  I  worked  unceasingly,  and  with  all  my  might.  I 
lost  no  time.  I  hated  pleasure  parties,  and  all  kinds  of 
amusements.  My  work  was  my  amusement.  I  hated 
company,  unless  the  subject  of  convei*sation  could  be  reli- 
gion, or  something  pertaining  to  it.  When  obliged  to  go 
out  and  take  dinner,  or  tea,  or  supper,  I  always  took  a  book 
or  two  with  me,  and  if  the  company  were  not  inclined  to 
spend  the  time  in  useful  conversation,  I  would  slip  away 
into  some  quiet  room,  or  take  a  walk,  and  spend  my  time 
in  reading.  I  always  read  on  my  walks  and  on  my  jour- 
neys, if  the  weather  Avas  fair,  and  on  some  occasions  when 
it  was  not  fair.  My  mind  was  always  on  the  stretch.  I 
had  no  idea  that  I  needed  rest  or  recreation.  It  never  en- 
tered into  my  mind  that  I  could  get  to  the  end  of  my 
mental  strength,  and  when  I  was  actually  exhausted, — 
when  I  had  Avearied  both  body  and  mind  to  the  utmost,  so 
that  writing  and  even  reading  became  irksome  to  me,  I 
still  accused  myself  of  idleness,  instead  of  suspecting  my- 
self of  weariness.  I  wonder  that  I  lived.  If  my  constitu- 
tion had  not  been  sound  and  elastic  to  the  last  degree,  I 
should  have  worn  myself  out,  and  been  silent  in  the  dust, 
more  than  tliirty  years  ago. 

7.  All  the  time  that  I  was  laboring  to  correct  and  enlarge 
my  views  of  Christian  truth  and  duty,  I  was  endeavoring  to 
improve  my  way  of  speaking  and  writing.  I  wished,  of 
course,  to  be  able  to  speak  and  write  correctly  and  forcibly, 
but  what  I  longed  for  most  of  all,  was  to  be  able  to  speak 
w^ith  the  greatest  possible  plainness  and  simplicity  to  the 
poorer  and  less  favored  classes.  If  there  were  things  in 
Christianity  that  were  inexplicable  mA'sterics,  T  had  no  wish 
to  meddle  with  them  at  all ;  if  there  was  nothing  but  Avhat 
was  explicable,  I  wished  to  be  able  to  s]ieak  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  make  the  whole  subject  of  religion  plain  to 
them.     My  belief  was  that  there  were  not  any  inexplica- 


IMPROVEMENT   OF    STYLE.  39 

ble  mysteries  in  Christianity ;  that  though  there  were 
doctrines  in  Christianity  which  had  been  mysteries  in  earlier 
times,  they  were  mysteries  now  no  longer,  but  revela- 
tions ;  that  the  things  which  were  inexplicable  mysteries, 
belonged  to  God,  and  that  none  but  thino;s  that  were  re- 
vealed belonged  to  us.  My  impressimi  was,  that  all 
things  spiritual  could  be  made  as  plain  to  people  of  com- 
mon sense  and  honest  hearts,  as  things  natural ;  that  all 
that  was  necessary  to  this  end,  was  first  to  separate  from 
Christianity  all  that  was  not  Christianity,  and  secondly, 
to  translate  Christianity  out  of  Latin  and  Greek,  Hebrew 
and  Gibberish,  into  the  language  of  the  common  people. 

To  qualify  myself  for  this  work  of  translation  was  the 
next  great  object  of  all  my  studies.  Paul  regarded  the 
unnecessary  use  of  unknown  tongues  in  the  assemblies  of 
the  Church,  as  a  great  nuisance.  He  demanded  that  every- 
thing said  in  those  assemblies,  should  be  spoken  in  a 
language  that  all  could  understand.  Whether  men  prayed, 
or  sang,  or  preached,  he  insisted  that  they  should  do  it  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  make  themselves  intelligible.  His  re- 
marks on  this  subject  are  the  perfection  of  wisdom,  and 
deserve  more  attention  from  religious  teachers  than  they 
are  accustomed  to  receive.  Paul's  wish  was,  that  Chris- 
tians should  not  only  all  speak  the  same  things,  but  that 
they  should  speak  them  in  the  same  way,  so  that  they 
might  all  be  able  to  understand  each  other,  and  that  out- 
siders might  be  able  to  understand  them  all.  "Above  all 
gifts,"  says  he,  "covet  the  gift  of  plain  and  intelligible  speak- 
ing. Never  use  an  unknown  tongue  so  long  as  you  can  use 
a  known  one.  He  that  speaketh  in  an  unknown  tongue 
speaketh  not  unto  men  but  unto  God  :  for  no  man  under- 
staudeth  him.  He  may  talk  about  very  good  things,  but 
no  one  is  the  better  for  his  talk.  But  he  that  speaketh  in 
a  known  tongue  can  be  understood  by  all ;  and  all  are  in- 
structed, and  comforted,  and  strengthened.  And  even  God 
can  understand  a  known  tongue  as  well  as  an  unknown 
one.  He  that  speaketh  in  an  unknown  tongue  may  edify 
himself  perhaps ;  but  he  that  speaketh  in  a  known  one, 
edifieth  the  Church.  I  do  not  grudge  you  your  unknown 
tongues,  but  I  had  a  great  deal  rather  you  would  use  a 
known  one ;  for  greater  is  he  that  speaketh  in  a  known 


40  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

one,  than  he  that  speaketh  in  an  unknown  one.  True 
greatness  does  not  consist  in  saying  or  doing  things  Avon- 
derful ;  but  in  saying  and  doing  things  useful, — in  talking 
and  acting  in  a  loving,  condescending,  self-sacrificing  spirit, 
with  a  view  to  the  comfort  and  welfare  of  our  brethren. 
Suppose  I  were  to  come  to  you  speaking  in  tongues  that  you 
did  not  understand,  what  good  should  I  do  you,  unless  I 
should  translate  what  I  said  into  a  tongue  you  could  un- 
derstand ?  And  why  should  I  say  a  thing  twice  over 
when  saying  it  once  would  do  as  well,  and  even  better  ? 
Everything  should  be  madeas  plain  as  possible  from  the  first. 
AVhen  you  have  made  things  as  plain  as  you  can,  there 
will  be  some  that  will  find  it  as  much  as  they  can  do  to 
catch  your  meaning.  If  you  talk  in  an  unknown  tongue 
they  cannot  get  at  your  meaning  at  all,  but  only  sit,  and 
stare,  and  sigh.  Some  poor  silly  souls  may  admire  and 
applaud  you ;  for  there  are  always  some  who,  when  they 
hear  a  man  that  they  cannot  understand,  will  cry  out, 
What  a  great  preacher !  But  what  good  or  sensible  man 
would  wish  for  the  praise  of  such  creatures  as  those  ?  Talk 
intelligibly.  Talk  so  that  folks  can  tell  what  you  are 
talking  about.  If  you  have  nothing  worth  saying,  hold 
your  tongues.  If  you  have  something  worth  saying,  say  it 
so  that  people  can  understand  it.  Make  everything  as  clear 
as  possible.  We  might  as  well  be  %vithout  tongues  as  talk 
unintelligibly.  Even  things  without  life,  giving  sound, 
whether  pipe  or  harp,  except  they  give  a  distinction  in  the 
sounds,  how  shall  it  be  known  what  is  piped  or  harped  ? 
For  if  the  trumpet  give  an  uncertaifl  sound,  who  shall  pre- 
pare himself  to  the  battle?  So  likewise  ye,  except  ye  utter 
by  the  tongue  words  easy  to  be  understood,  how  shall  it  be 
known  what  is  spoken  ?  for  ye  shall  speak  into  the  air. 
There  are,  no  one  knows  how  many  voices  in  the  world ; 
and  none  of  them  without  signification.  The  voices  of 
birds  and  the  voices  of  beasts  are  endless  in  variety ;  yet 
each  has  its  own  distinct  intelligible  meaning.  All  creatures, 
though  destitute  of  language  like  that  of  man,  make  them- 
selves ])roperly  understood  by  their  mates,  their  kindred,  and 
their  associates.  They  even  make  themselves  intelligible  to 
men.  Talk  of  great  preachers; — why  the  man  that  cannot 
or  will  not  preach  so  as  to  make  himself  understood,  is 


WOULD   BE   A   PLAIN    PEEACHEE.  41 

smaller,  lower,  less  in  the  esteem  of  God,  and  of  good,  sen- 
sible, Christian  men  and  women,  than  the  lowest  animal 
or  the  smallest  insect,  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  Every 
sheep  that  bleats,  every  ox  that  lows,  every  ass  that  brays, 
every  bird  that  sings,  and  every  goose  that^gabbles,  is  more 
of  a  sage,  if  not  more  of  a  saint,  than  the"great  preachers ! 
The  things  so-called  by  a  certain  class  of  simpletons,  are 
about  the  most  pitiable,  if  not  the  most  blameable  creatures, 
in  all  God's  universe.  What  then  is  the  upshot  of  what  I  am 
saying  ?  It  is  this.  Whether  I  sing,  or  pray,  or  talk,  I  wall 
make  myself  understood.  I  thank  my  God,  I  can  speak  with 
tongues  more  than  you  all;  and  I  do  speak  with  them  when 
it  is  necessary  to  do  so  in  order  to  make  myself  understood: 
but  in  the  Church,  I  had  rather  speak  five  words  in  a 
tongue  and  a  style  that  my  hearers  can  understand,  that 
by  my  voice  I  may  teach  others,  than  ten  thousand  in  an 
unknown  tongue." 

And  so  the  great,  good,  common-sense  Apostle  goes  on. 
My  wish  and  purpose  were  to  carry  out  his  principles 
to  the  farthest  possible  extent.  If  I  had  tried  hard,  I 
could  have  preached  in  Latin.  With  a  little  more  effort 
I  could  have  preached  in  Greek.  I  could  have  preached 
in  the  ordinary,  high-sounding,  Frenchified,  Latinized, 
mongrel  style,  without  an  effort.  It  required  an  effort 
to  keep  clear  of  the  abomination.  And  I  made  the 
effort.  I  wanted  to  feel  when  speaking,  that  I  had  not  only 
myself  a  proper  understanding  of  what  I  was  talking  about, 
but  that  I  was  conveying  correct  and  clear  ideas  of  it  to 
the  minds  of  my  hearers.  To  utter  words  which  I  did  not 
understand,  or  words  Avhich  I  could  not  make  my  hearers 
understand,  was  a  thing  I  could  not  endure ;  and  to  this 
day,  the  very  idea  of  such  a  thing  excites  in  me  a  kind  of 
horror.  I  had  no  ambition  to  preach  what  were  called 
great  sermons,  or  to  be  what  was  called  a  great  preacher. 
My  great  desire  was  not  to  astonish  or  confound  people, 
but  to  do  them  good ;  to  convey  religious  truth  to  their 
minds  in  such  a  way,  and  so  to  impress  it  on  their  hearts, 
that^they  might  be  converted,  edified,  and  saved. 

When  I  first  began  to  preach  I  had  a  cousin  who  was 
commencing  his  career  as  a  minister  at  the  same  time.  He 
was  ambitious  to  shine,  and  to  astonish  his  hearers  by  a 


42  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

show  of  learning.  He  knew  nothing  of  Latin  and  Greek, 
but  he  was  fond  of  great  high-soundmg  words  of  Greek 
and  Latin  origin.  He  carried  about  with  him  a  pocket 
dictionary,  which  he  used  for  the  purpose  of  turning  little 
words  into  big  ones,  and  common  ones  into  strange  ones. 
My  taste  was  just  the  contrary.  My  desire  was  to  be  as 
simple  as  possible.  Like  my  companion,  I  often  carried 
about  with  me  a  pocket  dictionary,  but  the  end  for  which 
/  used  it  Avas,  to  help  me  to  turn  big  words  into  little  ones, 
and  strange  and  hard  ones  into  common  and  easy  ones. 
And  whenever  I  had  to  consult  a  dictionary  in  translating 
Latin,  or  Greek,  or  any  other  language,  into  English,  I 
always  took  the  simplest  and  best  known  words  I  could 
find  to  give  the  meaning  of  the  original.  My  cousin's  de- 
sire to  shine  betrayed  him  at  times  into  very  ridiculous 
blunders.  I  once  heard  him  say,  after  having  spent  some 
time  in  explaining  his  text,  '  But  that  I  may  devil-liope  the 
subject  a  little  more  fully,  I  would  observe,  that  the  words 
are  mcphitical."  He,  of  course,  meant  to  say,  metaphorical^ 
figurative,  not  mephltical,  which  means  of  a  bad  sniell.  My 
plan  secured  me  against  such  mistakes. 

To  assist  me  in  gaining  a  knowledge  of  the  true  mean- 
ing, and  of  the  right  use  of  words,  and  to  correct  and  sim- 
plify my  style  as  much  as  possible,  I  read  whatever  came 
in  my  way  on  grammar  and  philology,  on  rhetoric  and 
logic.  I  also  collected  a  number  of  the  best  English 
dictionaries,  including  a  beautiful  copy  of  Johnson's  great 
work  in  two  thick  quarto  volumes.  I  read  and  studied 
the  works  of  nearly  all  our  great  poets,  from  Spenser  and 
Shakespeare,  down  to  Cowper  and  Burns.  I  read  two  or 
three  later  ones.  I  had  already  committed  to  memory  the 
whole,  or  nearly  the  whole,  of  the  moral  songs  of  Dr. 
Watts  ;  and  many  of  them  keep  their  places  in  my  memory 
to  the  present  day.  And  though  it  may  seem  incredible  to 
some,  I  actually  committed  to  memory  every  hymn  in  the 
Wesleyan  Hymn  Book.  I  never  knew  them  all  oif  at  one 
time,  but  I  got  them  all  oif  in  succession.  And  I  never 
forgot  the  better,  truer,  simpler,  sweeter  ones.  I  can  re- 
peat hundreds  of  them  still,  with  the  exception,  of  here  and 
there  a  stanza  or  two.  And  I  committed  to  memory  all 
the  better  portion  of  the  new  hymns  introduced  into  the 


WOULD   BE   A   PLAIN    PEEACHER.  43 

hymn  book  by  the  Methodist  New  Connection.  And  I 
committed  to  memory  choice  pieces  of  poetry  without  num- 
ber. I  read  Shakespeare  till  I  could  ^uote  many  of  his 
best  passages,  including  nearly  all  his  soliloquies,  and  a 
number  of  long  conversations,  as  readily  as  I  could  quote 
the  sacred  writings. 

I  read  all  Buuyan's  works.  I  could  tell  the  story  of  his 
Pilgrim  from  beginning  to  end.  I  read  Robinson  Crusoe, 
and  some  of  the  other  works  of  Defoe.  I  read  Addison 
and  Johnson,  Goldsmith  and  Swift.  .  To  get  at  the  origin 
and  at  the  primitive  meaning  of  words,  I  studied  French 
and  German,  as  well  as  Latin  and  Greek.  "When  I  met 
with  passages  in  English  authors  that  expressed  great 
truths  in  a  style  that  was  not  to  my  taste,  I  used  to  trans- 
late them  into  my  own  style,  just  as  I  did  fine  passages 
from  Latin,  Greek,  or  French  authors.  I  also  translated 
poetical  passages  into  prose.  I  tried  sometimes  to  trans- 
late things  into  the  language  of  children,  and  in  some  cases 
I  succeeded.  I  did  my  best  to  keep  in  mind  how  I  felt, 
and  what  I  could  understand,  when  I  was  a  child  and  a 
boy,  and  endeavored  to  keep  my  style  as  near  as  I  could 
to  the  level  of  my  boyish  understanding.  My  first  super- 
intendent did  not  approve  of  my  plan.  "  The  proper  way," 
said  he,  "  is,  not  to  go  down  to  the  people ;  but  to  compel 
the  people  to  come  up  to  you."  He  was  fond  of  a  swell- 
ing, high-sounding,  long-winded  style.  How  far  he  suc- 
ceeded in  bringing  people  up  to  himself,  I  cannot  say,  but 
I  recollect  once  hearing  a  pupil  of  his  talk  a  whole  hour 
without  uttering  either  a  thought  or  a  feeling  that  was 
worth  a  straw.  An  old  woman,  with  whom  he  had  once 
lived,  and  with  whom  he  was  a  great  favorite,  said  to  me  . 
after  the  service,  '  Well,  how  did  you  like  our  young  man  ?' 
'  He  talked  away,'  said  I.  *  I  think  he  did,'  she  answered, 
'he  grows  better  and  better,  /couldn't  understand  him.' 
His  teacher,  my  superintendent,  published  a  volume  of  ser- 
mons ;  but  I  never  met  with  anybody  that  had  read  them. 
I  read  one  or  two  of  them  myself,  and  was  astonished ; — 
perhaps  not  so  much  astonished  as  something  else, — to  find, 
that  at  the  end  of  one  of  his  tall-worded,  long-winded, 
round-about  sentences,  he  contradicted  what  he  had  said  at 
the  beginning. 


44  MODERN  SKEPTICISM. 

CHAPTER  y. 

CHANGES  IN  THE  AUTHOE^S  VIEWS. 

MY  studies  led  me  to  make  considerable  changes  both  in 
my  views  and  way  of  speaking. 

1.  With  regard  to  my  views.  I  found  that  some  of  the 
doctrines  which  I  had  been  taught  as  Christian  doctrines, 
were  not  so  much  as  hinted  at  by  Christ  and  His  Apos- 
tles,— that  some  doctrines  which  Christ  and  His  Apostles 
taught  with  great  plainness,  I  never  had  been  taught  at 
all ;  and  that  some  of  the  doctrines  of  Christ  and  His 
Apostles  which  I  had  been  taught,  I  had  been  taught  in 
very  different  forms  from  those  in  which  they  were  pre- 
sented in  the  New  Testament. 

I  found  that  some  doctrines  which  I  had  been  taught  as 
doctrines  of  the  greatest  importance,  were  never  so  much 
as  alhided  to  in  the  whole  Bible,  while  in  numbers  of  places 
quite  contrary  doctrines  were  taught.  While  unscriptural 
doctrines  were  inculcated  as  fundamental  doctrines  of  the 
Gospel,  some  of  the  fundamental  doctrines  themselves 
were  not  only  neglected,  but  denounced  as  grievous  heresies. 

Many  passages  of  Scripture  which  were  perfectly  plain 
when  left  to  speak  out  their  own  meaning,  had  been  used 
so  badly  by  theologians,  that  they  had  become  unintelligi- 
ble to  ordinary  Christians.  While  jirofessing  to  give  the 
passages  needful  explanations,  thoy  had  heaped  upon  them 
impenetrable  obscurations.  Words  that,  as  they  came  from 
Jesus,  were  spirit  and  life,  had  been  so  grievously  pervert- 
ed, that  thoy  had  become  meaningless  or  mischievous. 

I  met  with  passages  M^hich  had  boon  used  as  proofs  of 
doctrines  to  which  they  had  not  the  slightest  reference. 
There  were  the  words  of  Jeremiah  for  instance:  "Can  the 
Ethiopian  change  his  skin,  or  the  leopard  his  spots?"  The 
prophet  is  speaking  of  the  impossibility  of  men,  after  long 
continuance  in  wilful  sin,  breaking  off  their  bad  habits  ;  as 
the  closing  words  of  the  passage  show :  "  Then  may  ye 
who  are  aceusfomed  to  do  evil,  do  well."  But  the  theolo- 
gians took  the  words  and  used  them  in  support  of  the  doc- 


MAKES    MAI5Y    DISCOVERIES.  45 

trine  that  no  man  in  his  unconverted  state  can  do  anything 
towards  his  salvation, — a  doctrine  which  is  neither  Scrip- 
tural nor  rational.  Again ;  Isaiah,  retiring  to  the  cala- 
mitous condition  of  the  Jewish  nation,  in  consequence  of 
God's  judgments,  says:  "The  whole  head  is  sick,  and  the 
whole  heart  faint.  From  the  sole  of  the  foot  to  the  head, 
there  is  no  soundness  ;  but  wounds,  and  bruises,  and  putre- 
fying sores,"  &c.  This,  which  the  prophet  said  with  re- 
gard to  the  state  of  the  Jews,  the  theologians  applied  to  the 
character,  not  of  the  Jews  only,  but  of  all  mankind.  What 
Paul  said  about  the  law  of  Moses,  and  the  works  or  deeds 
required  by  that  law,  the  theologians  applied  to  the  law  of 
Christ.  And  so  with  regard  to  multitudes  of  passages. 
I  was  constantly  coming  across  passages  that  the  theolo- 
gians systematically  perverted,  taking  them  from  their 
proper  use  and  meaning,  and  forcing  them  into  the  support 
of  notions  to  which  they  had  not  the  slightest  reference. 
The  liberties  taken  with  the  words  of  Paul  went  far  to- 
wards turning  the  writings  of  that  great  advocate  and  ex- 
ample of  holiness  into  lessons  of  licentiousness. 

It  was  plain  that,  on  many  points,  theology  was  one 
thing,  and  Christianity  another ;  and  that  many  and  im- 
portant changes  would  have  to  be  made  in  the  creeds  and 
confessions  of  Christendom,  before  they  could  be  brought 
into  harmony  with  the  truth  as  taught  by  Jesus. 

Some  theological  doctrines  I  found  rested  on  the  au- 
thority of  Milton's  Paradise  Lost,  or  of  the  Church  of 
England  Prayer  Book,  or  on  the  authority  of  earlier  works 
from  which  Milton  or  the  authors  of  the  Prayer  Book  had 
borrowed. 

One  day,  about  forty-two  years  ago,  I  was  travelling 
homewards  from  Shields  to  Blyth  on  foot,  when  a  man 
with  a  cart  overtook  me,  and  asked  me  to  get  in  and  ride. 
I  did  so.  The  man  and  I  were  soon  busy  discussing  theo- 
logy. We  talked  on  saving  faith,  imputed  righteousness, 
predestination,  divine  foreknowledge,  election,  reprobation 
and  redemption.  We  differed  on  every  point,  and  the  man 
got  very  warm.  He  then  spake  of  a  covenant  made  be- 
tween God  the  Father  and  His  Son  before  the  creation  of 
the  world,  giving  me  all  the  particulars  of  the  engagement. 
I  told  him  I  had  read  something  about  a  covenant  of  that 


46  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

kind  in  Milton's  Paradise  Lost,  but  that  I  had  never  met 
Avith  anything  on  the  subject  in  the  sacred  Avritings,  and 
added  that  I  doubted  whether  any  such  transaction  ever 
took  place.  He  got  more  excited  than  ever,  and  expressed 
some  uneasiness  at  having  such  a  blasphemous  heretic  in 
his  cart.  Just  then  one  of  the  cart  wheels  came  oif  and 
down  went  the  vehicle  on  one  side,  spilling  me  and  the 
driver  on  the  road.  I  was  quickly  on  my  feet,  but  he  lay 
on  his  back  sprawling  in  the  sand.  "That's  a  judgment," 
said  he,  "  on  your  blasphemies."  "  You  seem  to  have  got 
the  worst  part  of  the  judgment,"  said  I.  I  asked  him  if 
I  could  help  him.  He  seemed  to  hint  that  I  ought  to  pay 
for  the  damage  done  to  the  cart ;  but  as  that  was  not  in 
the  covenant,  I  did  not  take  the  hint ;  and  as  he  was  in  a 
somewhat  unamiable  temper,  I  left  him  to  himself,  and 
trudged  on  homeward.  The  carter  and  I  had  no  more 
discussions  on  covenants.  But  many  a  bit  of  theology 
has  been  built  on  Milton  since  then. 

Other  doctrines  I  found  to  be  new  versions  of  old  j)agan 
imaginations. 

Some  seemed  to  have  originated  in  the  selfish  and  sensual 
principles  of  human  nature,  which  make  men  wishful  to 
avoid  self-denial  and  a  life  of  beneficence,  and  to  find  some 
easy  way  to  heaven. 

In  some  cases  Protestants  had  run  into  extremes  through 
a  hatred  and  horror  of  Popery,  while  in  others  orthodox 
teachers  had  run  into  extremes  through  hatred  and  dread 
of  Socinianism. 

In  other  cases  doctrines  seemed  to  have  been  rested  on 
no  authority  but  the  facts,  or  supjjosed  facts,  of  individual 
experiences. 

Some  great  doctrines  were  rendered  incomprehensible, 
repulsive,  or  incredible,  in  consequence  of  not  being  ac- 
com[)anied  with  other  doctrines,  which  were  necessary  to 
explain  their  use,  and  make  manifest  their  reasonableness 
and  worth.  There  was  no  lack  of  attention  among  theolo- 
gians to  the  doctrine  that  Christ  was  an  incarnation  of  the 
Deity ;  but  little  or  no  regard  was  paid  to  the  kindred 
doctrine,  its  necessary  accompaniment,  that  Jesus  was  the 
*  image,'  the  '  likeness,'  of  God,  the  revelation  or  manifes- 
tation of  His  character.     Yet  this  is  essential  to  a  right  im- 


DETECTS   ERRORS.  47 

derstanding  and  a  due  appreciation  of  the  other.  The 
revelation  or  manifestation  of  God,  and  especially  of  His 
eternal  and  infinite  love,  was  the  great  design  and  end  of 
the  incarnation.  Taken  apart  from  this  doctrine  the  in- 
carnation becomes  a  dry  hard  fact,  without  use  or  nieaning. 
It  is  when  viewed  as  a  means  of  revealing  God,— of  making 
manifest  His  infinite  goodness,  and  by  that  means  melting 
and  purifying  man's  heart,  and  transforming  his  character, 
that  it  is  seen  to  be  full  of  interest  and  power  and  glory.  ^ 

The  doctrine  that  Jesus  is  God's  image,  God  manifest  in 
the  flesh,  is  the  one  great  doctrine  of  Christianity,— -the 
sum,  the  substance  of  the  whole  Gospel, — the  Gospel  itself, 
— the  power  of  God  to  the  salvation  of  every  one  that 
truly  believes  and  contemplates  it.  It  is  a  world  of  truth 
in  one, — a  whole  encyclopaedia  of  divine  philosophy ;  the 
perfection  of  all  wisdom  and  of  all  power ;  the  one  great 
revelation  needful  to  the  salvation  of  the  world. 

Yet  I  never  met  with  this  doctrine  for  the  first  thirty 
years  of  my  life,  in  any  theological  work.  I  have  no  re- 
collection that  I  ever  heard  it  mentioned  in  a  sermon.  I 
certainly  never  heard  it  explained  and  applied  to  the  great 
purposes  for  which  it  was  designed.  I  never  was  told  that 
to  know  the  character  of  God,  I  had  only  to  look  at  the 
character  of  Christ, — that  what  Christ  was  during  His  life 
on  earth  in  the  circle  in  which  He  moved,  that  God  was 
throughout  all  worlds,  and  towards  all  the  creatures  of  His 
hands, — that  the  love  which  led  Jesus  to  suifer  and  die  for 
the  salvation  of  the  world,  lived  and  moved  in  the  heart  of 
the  infinite,  invisible  God,  prompting  Him  to  plan  and 
labor  throughout  immensity  to  promote  the  happiness  of 
the  whole  creation.  In  short,  the  Gospel  was  never  preached 
to  me  in  its  simplicity  and  beauty,  in  its  glory  and  power, 
nor  was  it  ever  properly  explained  to  me  in  catechism,  creed, 
confession,  or  body  of  divinity. 

And  generally,  no  sufficient  stress  was  ever  laid  by  theo- 
logians on  the  value  and  necessity  of  personal  virtue, — of 
religious  and  moral  goodness.  It  was  believed  that  Chris- 
tians would  have  goodness  of  some  kind,  in  some  degree, — 
that  they  would  be,  on  the  whole,  in  some  respects,  better 
than  the  ungodly  world ;  and  there  was  a  feeling  that  they 
ought  to  be  so  :  but  it  was  rare  to  meet  with  a  preacher  or 


48  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

a  book  that  put  the  subject  in  any  thing  like  a  Scriptural 
Christian  light.  No  one  contended  that  goodness  was 
everything,  that  it  was  the  one  great  all-glorious  object  for 
which  the  world  was  made,  for  which  the  universe  was 
upheld,  for  which  prophets  spake,  for  which  the  Scriptures 
were  written,  for  which  God  became  incarnate,  for  which 
Jesus  lived  and  labored,  for  which  He  suffered  and  died, 
for  which  He  founded  His  Church  and  appointed  and  en- 
dowed its  ministers,  for  which  Providence  planned,  and  for 
which  all  things  continued  to  exist.  No  one  tauo-ht  that 
goodness  was  the  only  thing  for  which  God  cared,  the  only 
thing  which  He  esteemed  and  loved,  and  the  only  thing 
He  would  reward  and  bless.  Books  and  preachers  did  not 
use  to  tell  us,  that  faith,  and  knowledge,  and  feeling, — that 
repentance,  conversion,  and  sanctification, — that  reading  the 
Scriptures,  and  hearing  sermons,  and  singing  hymns,  and 
offering  prayers, — that  church  fellowship,  and  religious  or- 
dinances, were  all  nothing  except  so  far  as  they  tended  to 
make  people  good,  and  then  to  make  them  better,  and  at 
last  to  perfect  them  in  all  divine  and  human  excellence. 
No  one  taught  us  that  goodness  was  beauty,  that  goodness 
was  greatness,  that  goodness  was  glory,  that  goodness  was 
happiness,  that  goodness  was  heaven.  The  truth  was 
never  jjressed  on  us  that  the  want  of  goodness  was  defor- 
mity, dishonor  and  shame, — that  it  was  pain,  and  wretched- 
ness, and  torment,  and  death, — that  goodness  in  full 
measure  would  make  earth  heaven — that  its  decline  and 
disappearance  would  make  earth  hell.  Yet  a  careful  and 
long-continued  perusal  of  the  Scriptures  left  the  impression 
on  my  mind,  that  this  was  really  the  case.  When  I  com- 
pared the  eternal  talk  about  all  our  goodness  being  of  no 
account  in  the  sight  of  God, — of  all  our  righteousness  being 
but  as  filthy  rags, — ^with  the  teachings  of  Scripture,  I  felt  as 
if  theologians  were  anti-christ,  and  their  tlicology  the  gos- 
pel of  the  wicked  one.  I  have  no  wisli  to  do  injustice  to 
theology,  or  to  theologians  either ;  but  the  more  I  knew  of 
them,  the  less  I  thought  of  them.  And  even  when  the 
Christian  and  theologian  got  blended,  as  they  did,  to  some 
extent,  in  such  men  as  Baxter  and  Wesley,  I  pitied  the 
theologian  while  I  esteemed  and  loved  the  Christian. 
Theological  works  are  poor  contemptible  things.     It  would 


MAKES   MORE   DISCOVERIES.  ^  49 

have  been  no  great  loss  to  the  world  if  nineteen-twentieths 
of  them  had  been  burnt  in  the  Chicago  fire. 

I  was  often  grievously  harassed  with  p-evailing  theories 
of  Scripture  inspiration.  All  those  theories  seemed  incon- 
sistent with  facts, — inconsistent  with  what  every  man  of 
any  information,  knew  to  be  true  in  reference  to  the  Scrip- 
tures. They  all  lay  open  to  infidel  objections, — unanswer- 
able objections.  They  •  made  it  impossible  for  a  man  to 
argue  with  the  abler  and  better  informed  class  of  infidel 
assailants  with  the  success  and  satisfaction  desirable.  The 
theories  did  not  admit  of  a  successful  defence.  And  when 
the  theories  were  refuted,  the  Bible  and  Christianity  suf- 
fered. On  searching  the  Scriptures  I  found  they  gave  no 
countenance  to  those  theories.  They  taught  the  doctrine  of 
Scripture  inspiration,  but  not  the  prevailing  theories  of  the 
doctrine.  The  doctrine  I  could  defend  with  ease  : .  the  de- 
fence of  the  theories  was  impossible.  I  accordingly  laid 
aside  the  theories. 

Again;  I  heard  and  read  continually  about  the  in- 
fluence and  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  but  I  seldom  heard 
and  read  of  the  influence  of  the  truth.  Yet  in  Scripture 
we  read  as  much  and  as  often  of  the  latter  as  of  the  former. 

I  had  been  led,  in  some  way,  to  believe  that  Adam  was 
the  federal  head  of  all  mankind, — that  God  made  a  cove- 
nant with  him  that  was  binding  on  all  his  posterity, — that 
the  destinies  of  the  whole  human  race  were  placed  in  his 
hands, — that  it  was  so  arranged  that  if  Adam  did  right,  his 
posterity  were  to  be  born  in  a  state  of  perfection  and  bles- 
sedness, incapable  of  sin  and  misery, — that  if  he  did  wrong 
they  were  to  be  born  depraved  and  miserable,  under  the 
curse  of  God,  and  liable  to  death  and  damnation — that  as 
Adam  did  do  wrong,  we  all  came  into  the  world  so  de- 
praved that  we  were  incaj)able  of  thinking  a  good  thought, 
of  feeling  a  good  desire,  of  speaking  a  right  word,  or  of  do- 
ing a  right  thing, — that  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  re- 
deem us  from  the  guilt  of  Adam's  sin,  and  from  the  pun- 
ishment due  to  us  for  that  sin,  and  to  put  us  on  such  a  foot- 
ing with  regard  to  God  as  to  render  possible  our  salvation. 
I  had  been  led  to  believe  a  hundred  other  things  con- 
nected with  these  about  the  plan  of  redemption,  the  way  of 
salvation,  imputed  righteousness,  saving  faith,  &c.  AVhen 
4 


50  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

I  came  to  look  for  tliose  doctrines  in  the  Bible,  I  could  not 
find  one  of  them  from  the  beginning  of  the  Book  to  the 
end.  I  was  in  consequence  led  to  regard  them  as  the  imagi- 
nations of  unthinking,  trifling,  or  dreamy  theologians. 

There  are  few  doctrines  more  generally  received  than 
the  doctrine  of  types, — ^the  doctrine  that  persons  and  things 
under  the  older  dispensations  were  intended  to  direct  the 
minds  of  those  who  saw  them  to  things  corresponding  to 
them  under  the  Christian  dispensation.  In  McEwen's 
work  on  Types,  which  appears  to  have  had  an  immense 
circulation,  is  this  sentence, — '  That  the  grand  doctrines  of 
Christianity  concerning  the  mediation  of  Christ,  &c.,  were 
typically  manifested  to  the  church  by  a  variety  of  ceremo- 
nies, persons  and  events,  under  the  Old  Testament  dispen- 
sation, is  past  doubt.'  And  it  is  very  plainly  intimated, 
that  those  who  affect  to  call  this  notion  in  question,  and  yet 
pretend  to  be  friends  of  a  divine  revelation,  are  hypocrites. 
It  is  added :  *  The  sacrifices  were  ordained  to  pre-tigure 
Christ, — and  were  professions  of  faith  in  His  propitiation.' 

There  are  but  few  preachers  or  religious  books  which  do 
not  go  on  the  supposition  that  this  doctrine  is  taught  in 
Scripture.  And  you  may  hear  sermon  after  sermon  from 
some  preachers,  the  chief  object  of  which  is  to  point  out 
correspondences  between  the  paschal  lamb,  the  sca}>e-goat, 
and  other  sacrifices  under  the  Law,  and  Jesus  and  the  sac- 
rifice which  He  offered.  Some  preachers  and  religious 
writers  take  almost  all  things  under  the  law  to  be  types  of 
Christ,  or  types  of  things  pertaining  to  Him.  They  make 
Noah,  and  Isaac,  and  Melchisedec,  and  Joseph,  and  Moses, 
and  Joshua,  and  David,  and  Samson,  and  Solomon,  and 
the  brazen  serpent,  and  the  rod  of  Aaron,  and  the  manna, 
types  of  Christ,  and  almost  all  the  sacrifices  they  make 
types  of  His  great  sacrifice  of  Himself. 

I  could  see  no  warrant  for  this  doctrine.  I  could  find  no 
proof  that  any  of  tlie  sacrifices  under  tlie  law  were  intended 
to  direct  the  minds  of  those  who  offered  them  to  tlie  sacri- 
fice of  Jesus.  There  is  nothing  in  the  law,  and  there  is  no- 
thing in  the  prophets  to  that  effect.  There  is  no  passage 
of  Scripture  which  says  tliat  any  one  ever  did  look  through 
the  old  Levitical  sacrifices  to  Christ.  There  is  no  ]>assage 
which  says  it  was  mcn'-s  duty  to  do  so ;  none  wliich  com- 


THEOLOGICAL   FICTIONS     EXPLODED.  51 

mends  any  one  for  doing  so,  or  which  blames  any  one  for 
not  doing  so.     The  prophets  often  rebuke  the  Israelites  for 
their  injustice,  intemperance,  deceit  and-^ruelty,  but  they 
never  rebuke  them  for  not  looking  through  their  sacrifices 
to  the  sacrifice  of  Jesus.     They  often  exhort  people  to 
*  cease  to  do  evil  and  learn  to  do  well ;'  but  they  never  urge 
them  to  regard  their  sacrifices  as  types  or  manifestations 
of  the  sacrifice  of  Christ.     Christ  nowhere  teaches  the  ordi- 
nary doctrine  of  types.     He  never  refers  to  anything  as  a 
type  of  His  sacrifice,  or   of  anything  else  connected  with 
His  work.     Nor  do  the  Apostles  say  anything  to  counte- 
nance the  prevailing  notion.     For  anything  the  Scriptures 
say  to  the  contrary,  the  whole  doctrine  of  types,   as  set 
forth  in  such  boolcs  as  that  of  McEwen,  is  a  human  fiction. 
Indeed,  I  see   no  hint  in  Scripture  that  any  one  had  the 
least  idea  that  the  Messiah  "would  offer  Himself  a  sacrifice 
for  sin  till  after  the  sacrifice  had  taken  place.     Isaiah  and 
Daniel   spake   on  the  subject,,  and    '  They  inquired   and 
searched  diligently,'  says  Peter,  'what,  or  what  manner  of 
time  the  spirit  of  Christ  which  was  in  them  did   signify, 
when  it  testified  beforehand  the  sufferings  of  Christ  and 
the  glory  that  should  follow  ;  unto  whom  it  was  revealed, 
that  not  unto  themselves,  but  unto  us  they  did  minister 
the  things,  which  are  now  reported  unto  you  by  them  that 
have  preached  the  gospel  unto  you  with  the  Holy  Ghost 
sent  down  from  Heaven.'     And  we  know  that  Christ's  own 
disciples  did  not  believe  that  Christ  would  die  at  all.     So 
far  were  they  from  having  any  thought  of  such  a  thing,  that 
when  Jesus  told  them,  in  the  plainest  words  imaginable, 
they  did  not  understand  Him.     The  fact  had  to  reveal  it- 
self.    And  even  now  the  nature  and  end  of  Christ's  sacrifice 
are  but  very  imperfectly  understood. 

And  if  the  doctrine  of  types  falls  to  the  ground,  some 
other  doctrines,  which  rest  upon  it,  must  go  down.  Cer- 
tain notions  about  the  faith  of  the  ancient  saints  must  give 
way,  and  the  views  of  saving  faith  presented  in  the  eleventh 
chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  must  take  their  place*. 
Great  numbers  of  religious  teachers  and  writers  attri- 
bute to  Adam  and  Eve,  in  their  first  state,  an  amount  of 
knowledge,  and  a  perfection  of  righteousness,  which  the 
Scriptures  nowhere  ascribe  to  them,  and  which,  if  they  had 


52  •    MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

possessed  tliem,  would  have  rendered  it  impossible,  one 
would  think,  that  they  should  have  yielded  so  readily  to 
temptation. 

They  represent  the  first  sin  as  having  eifects  which  are 
never  attributed  to  it  in  the  Bible. 

They  give  an  unwarrantable  meaning  to  the  word  death 
contained  in  the  first  threatening. 

They  attribute  to  man's  first  sin  inconveniences  of  the 
seasons,  and  of  the  diiferent  climates  of  the  globe,  as  well 
as  a  thousand  things  on  the  earth's  surface,  and  in  the  dis- 
positions and  habits  of  the  lower  animals,  which  are  not  at- 
tributed to  that  cause  by  the  sacred  writers. 

They  spend  a  vast  amount  of  time  and  words  in  trying 
to  prove  that  the  reason  why  Abel's  sacrifice  was  more 
excellent  than  that  of  Cain,  and  Avas  accepted  by  God,  was 
that  Abel  offered  animals,  and  had  an  eye  to  the  sacrifice  of 
Christ,  while  Cain  offered  only  the  fruits  of  the  ground, 
that  did  not  typify  or  symbolize  that  sacrifice ;  a  notion  for 
which  there  is  no  authority  in  Scripture.  The  story  in 
Genesis  seems  to  intimate  that  the  sacrifice  of  Cain  was  re- 
jected because  he  was  a  bad-living  man,  and  that  the  sacri- 
fice of  Abel  was  accepted  because  he  was  a  good-living  man. 
Hence  the  words  of  God  in  His  address  to  Cain,  'AAhyart 
thou  wroth?  And  why  is  thy  countenance  fallen?  If  thou 
doest  well  shalt  thou  not  be  accepted  ?  and  if  thou  doest 
not  well,  sin  lieth  at  the  door.'  And  hence  too  the  state- 
ment of  John,  that  Cain  slew  his  brother  because  his  own 
works  were  evil  and  his  brother's  righteous.  And  the 
faith  attributed  to  Abel,  as  well  as  to  Enoch,  INIoses  and 
others,  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  is  not  ihith  in  the 
sacrifice  of  Christ,  but  simply  a  belief  in  God;  a  belief  that 
*  Pic  is,  and  that  Pie  is  a  rewarder  of  them  that  diligently 
seek  Him,  or  lovingly  serve  Him.' 

There  were  many  definitions  and  descriptions  of  saving 
faith  common  in  religious  books  for  which  I  could  find  no 
authority  in  Scrij^ture. 

I  also  met  with  a  multitude  of  cold  hard  things  about 
the  Trinity  and  the  Atonement  in  works  on  Theology 
which  I  never  was  unhappy  enough  to  find  in  tiie  Bible. 
All  seemed  pleasant  and  natural  and  of  heavenly  tendency 
there.     I  read  books  which  seemed  to  require   me  to  be- 


THEOLOGY   NOT    CHRISTIANITY.  53 

lieve  in  three  Gods ;  but  I  met  with  nothing  of  the  kind  in 
Scripture.  I  heard  prayers  and  forma  of  benediction  word- 
ed in  a  way  altogether  different  from  the  prayers  and  ben- 
edictions found  in  the  Bible.  The  Scriptures  allowed  me 
to  think  of  God,  in  the  first  place,  as  one,  as  I  myself  was 
one.  They  did  not  tell  me  He  was  three  in  the  same  way 
as  I  was  three ;  but  they  left  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity 
in  such  a  state  or  shape  that  I  found  no  more  difficulty  in 
receiving  it,  than  I  found  in  receiving  the  fact  of  a  Trinity 
in  myself.  I  left  accordingly  the  hard  repulsive  represen- 
tations of  the  theologians  to  their  fate,  and  accepted  and 
contented  myself  with  the  living,  rational  and  practical  re- 
presentations of  Scripture  in  their  stead. 

The  work  of  Christ  was  generally  represented  by  theolo- 
gians as  exerting  its  influence  directly  on  God.  His  death 
was  generally  spoken  of  as  a  satisfaction  to  divine  jus- 
tice, or  as  an  expedient  for  harmonizing  the  divine  attri- 
butes, or  maintaining  the  principles  of  the  divine  govern- 
ment. God  was  represented  as  being  placed  in  a  difficul- 
ty,— as  being  unable  to  gratify  His  love  in  forgiving  men 
on  their  repenting  and  turning  to  Him,  without  violating 
His  justice  and  His  truth,  and  putting  in  peril  the  princi- 
ples of  His  government.  There  were  several  other  theolo- 
gical theories  of  the  design  or  object  of  the  death  of  Christ. 
All  these  theories  may  be  true  in  a  certain  sense.  They 
may,  perhaps,  be  so  explained  as  to  make  them  harmonize 
with  the  teachings  of  Scripture.  But  I  found  none  of  them 
in  the  Bible.  I  found  multitudes  of  passages  which  repre- 
sented the  death  and  sufferings  of  Christ  as  intended  to  in- 
fluence men,  but  not  one  that  taught  any  of  the  theological 
theories, — hardly  one  that  even  seemed  to  do  so.  Here 
again  I  took  the  Scripture  representations,  and  allowed  the 
theological  ones  to  slide. 

There  was  a  hymn  which  said  of  Christ,  'Our  debt  He  has 
paid,  and  our  work  He  has  done.'  I  could  find  nothing  in 
Scripture  about  the  Saviour  paying  our  debt,  or  doing  our 
work.  I  could  find  passages  which  taught  that  our  debts 
or  sins  might  be  forgiven,  on  our  return  to  God,  So  far 
were  the  Scriptures  from  teaching  that  Christ  had  done  our 
work,  that  they  represented  Him  as  coming  into  the  world 
to  fit  us  to  do  it  ourselves, — as  redeeming  us  and  creating  us 
anew  that  we  might  be  zealous  of  good  works. 


54  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

I  could  find  nothing  in  Scripture  to  countenance  the  com- 
mon notion  about  the  efficacy  of  the  death-bed  repentances 
of  old,  wilful,  hardened  sinners.  The  Bible  left  on  my  mind 
the  impression  that  '  whatsoever  a  man  soweth,  that  shall 
he  also  reap.' 

Some  preachers  and  writers  spoke  as  if  God  the  Father 
was  sterner,  less  tender  and  loving,  than  the  Son.  But  as 
we  have  seen,  the  Bible  taught  that  Jesus  was  God's  image, 
His  likeness,  the  incarnation  and  revelation  of  God, — God 
manifest  in  the  flesh. 

I  read  in  books,  and  heard  it  said  in  sermons,  that  God 
did  not  answer  men's  prayers,  or  grant  them  any  blessing, 
or  receive  them  at  last  to  heaven,  on  account  of  anything 
good  in  themselves,  or  of  anything  good  they  did.  Yet  on 
looking  through  the  Scriptures  I  found  such  passages  as 
these  :  '  Beloved,  if  our  heart  condemn  us  not,  then  have  we 
confidence  toward  God.  And  whatsoever  we  ask,  we  re- 
ceive of  Him,  because  we  keep  His  commandments,  and  do 
those  things  that  are  pleasing  in  His  sight.'  In  the  para- 
ble of  the  talents  I  found  God  represented  as  saying,  '  Well 
done,  thou  good  and  faithful  servant,  because  thou  hast 
been  faithful  in  a  very  little,  have  thou  authority  over  ten 
cities.'  And  in  the  Prophet  I  read,  '  Again,  when  the 
wicked  man  turneth  away  from  his  wickedness  that  he 
hath  committed,  and  doeth  that  which  is  lawful  and  right, 
he  shall  save  his  soul  alive.  Because  he  considereth  and 
turneth  away  from  all  his  transgressions  that  he  hath 
committed,  he  shall  surely  live,  he  shall  not  die.'  I  found 
the  whole  Bible  going  on  the  same  principle.  God  loves 
what  is  good  for  its  own  sake.  It  Avould  be  strange  if 
He  did  not.  And  how  any  one  can  think  He  is  honoring 
God  by  teaching  the  contrary  we  cannot  understand. 


WESLEY   AKD    THEOLOGY. 

CHAPTER  VI.      ^ 

JOHN  WESLEY  AND  HIS  VIEWS  ON  CEETAIN  POINTS. 


55 


H 


OW  easy  it  is  for  men  to  mix  up  their  own  fancies,  or 
Aj.  the  vain  conceits  of  others,  with  divine  truth,— or  rather, 
how  hard  it  is  to  avoid  doing  so,— we  may  see  by  the  case 
of  John  Wesley.     Wesley  was  one  of  the  most  devout,  and 
conscientious,  and,  on  the  whole,  one  of  the  most  rational, 
Scriptural,  practical  and  common-sense  men  the  Christian 
Church  ever  had.     Compared  with  theologians  generally, 
he  was  worthy  of  the  highest  praise.     He  had  the  greatest 
reverence  for  the  Scriptures.     He  early  in  life  declared  it 
to  be  his  determination  to  be  a  man  of  one  Book,  and 
that  one  book  the  Bible  ;  and  he  acted  in  accordance  with 
this  determination  to  the  best  of  his  knowledge  and  ability. 
The  Bible  was  his  sole  authority.     Its  testimony  decided 
all  questions,  settled  all  controversies.     Yet  such  was  the 
influence  of  prevailing  custom  in  the  theological  world, 
operating  on  his  mind  unconsciously  from  his  earliest  days, 
that  he  unintentionally  acted  inconsistently  with  this  good 
resolution  in  cases  without  number.     Shakespeare  makes 
one  of  his  characters  say,  "  If  to  do,  were  as  easy  as  to 
know  what  is  fittest  to  be  done,  beggars  would  ride  on 
horses,  and  poor  men's  cottages  would  be  princes  palaces. 
I  could  more  easily  tell   twenty  men  what  it  was  best  to 
do,  than  be  one  of  the  twenty  to  carry  out  my  own  in- 
structions."    And  we  need  no  better  proof  or  illustration 
of  the  truth  of  this  wise  saying,  than  the  case  of  the  good 
and  great  John  Wesley. 

We  have  seen  what  his  resolution  was.  Look  now  at 
one  or  two  of  his  sermons.  Take  first  the  sermon  on  God  s 
Approbation  of  His  Works.  In  that  discourse,  referring 
to  the  primeval  earth,  he  speaks  as  follows  :  "  The  whole 
mrface  of  it  was  beautiful  in  a  high  degree.  The  universal 
face  was  clothed  with  living  green.  And  every  part  was 
fertile  as  well  as  beautiful.  It  was  no  where  deforaied  by 
rough  or  ragged  rocks :  it  did  not  shock  the  view  with  hor- 
rid precipices,  huge  chasms,  or  dreary  caserns :  with  deep, 


56  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

impassable  morasses,  or  deserts  of  barren  sands.  We  have 
not  any  authority  to  say,  with  some  learned  and  ingenious 
authors,  tliat  there  were  no  mountains  on  the  original  earth, 
no  unevennesses  on  its  surface,  yet  it  is  highly  probable  that 
they  rose  and  fell,  by  almost  insensible  degrees. 

"There  were  no  agitations  within  the  bowels  of  the 
globe :  no  violent  convulsions  :  no  concussions  of  the  earth  : 
no  earthquakes  :  but  all  was  unmoved  as  the  pillars  of  hea- 
ven. There  were  then  no  such  things  as  eruptions  of  fire : 
there  were  no  volcanoes,  or  burning  mountains.  Neither 
Vesuvius,  Etna,  nor  Hecla,  if  they  had  any  being,  then 
poured  out  smoke  and  flame,  but  were  covered  with  a  ver- 
dant mantle,  from  the  top  to  the  bottom. 

"  It  is  probable  there  was  no  external  sea  in  the  paradi- 
siacal earth :  none,  until  the  great  deep  burst  the  barriers 
which  were  originally  appointed  for  it ;  indeed  there  was 
not  then  that  need  of  the  ocean  for  navigation  which  there 
is  now.  For  either  every  country  produced  whatever  was 
requisite  either  for  the  necessity  or  comfort  of  its  inhabi- 
tants ;  or  man  being  then  (as  he  will  be  again  at  the  resur- 
rection) equal  to  the  angels,  was  able  to  convey  himself,  at 
his  pleasure,  to  any  given  distance. 

"  There  were  no  putrid  lakes,  no  turbid  or  stagnating 
waters.  The  element  of  air  was  then  always  serene,  and  al- 
ways friendly  to  man.  It  contained  no  frightful  meteors,  no 
unwholesome  vapors,  no  poisonous  exhalations.  There  were 
no  tempests,  but  only  cool  and  gentle  breezes,  fanning  both 
man  and  beast,  and  Avafting  the  fragrant  odors  on  theu'  si- 
lent wings. 

"  The  sun,  the  fountain  of  fire,  '  Of  this  great  world 
both  eye  and  soul,'  was  situated  at  the  most  exact  distance 
from  the  earth,  so  as  to  yield  a  sufficient  quantity  of  heat, 
(neither  too  little  nor  too  much)  to  every  part  of  it.  God 
had  not  yet  '  Bid  his  angels  turn  askance  this  oblique 
globe.'  There  was,  therefore,  then  no  country  that  groaned 
under  '  The  rage  of  Arctos,  and  eternal  frost.'  There  was 
no  violent  winter,  or  sultry  summer  ;  no  extreme  cither  of 
heat  or  cold.  No  soil  was  burned  up  by  the  solar  heat : 
none  uninhabitable  through  the  want  of  it. 

"  There  were  then  no  impetuous  currents  of  air,  no  tem- 
pestuous winds,  no  furious  hail,  no  torrents  of  rain,  no 


WESLEY   AND    THEOLOGY.  57 

rolling  thunders  or  forky  lightnings.      One  'perennial  spring 
was  perpetually  smiling  over  the  whole  surface  of  the  earth.''' 

Speaking  of  vegetable  productions,  he  sa^, 

"  There  were  no  weeds,  no  plants  that  encumbered  the 
ground.  Much  less  were  there  any  poisonous  ones,  tend- 
ing to  hurt  any  one  creature." 

Referring  to  the  living  creatures  of  the  sea,  he  says, 

"  None  of  these  then  attempted  to  devour,  or  in  any  wise 
hurt  one  another.  All  were  peaceful  and  quiet,  as  were 
the  watery  fields  wherein  they  ranged  at  pleasure." 

Referring  to  insects,  he  adds, 

"  The  spider  was  then  as  harmless  as  the  fly,  and  did 
not  then  lie  in  wait  for  blood.  The  weakest  of  them  crept 
securely  over  the  earth,  or  spread  their  gilded  wings  in  the 
air,  that  wavered  in  the  breeze  and  glittered  in  the  sun, 
without  any  to  make  them  afraid.  Meantime,  the  reptiles 
of  every  kind  were  equally  harmless,  and  more  intelligent 
than  they." 

Referring  to  birds  and  beasts,  he  says, 

"  Among  all  these  there  were  no  birds  or  beasts  of  prey : 
none  that  destroyed  or  molested  another." 

All  this  may  be  very  beautiful  poetry,  such  as  one  might 
expect  from  the  "fine  frenzy"  of  a  loving,  lawless  genius, 
but  it  is  not  Scripture,  nor  is  it  science  or  philosophy.  "VVe 
have  not  a  doubt  but  that  God  made  all  things  right, — 
that  all  His  works  were  very  good;  the  Scriptures  tell  us 
that  very  plainly :  but  they  do  not  tell  us  that  the  things 
named  by  Wesley  constituted  their  goodness.  He  thinks 
that  the  earth  could  not  be  good  if  it  had  on  its  surface 
rough  or  rugged  rocks,  horrid  precipices,  huge  chasms,  or 
dreary  caverns,  with  impassable  morasses,  or  deserts  of 
barren  sands.  We  think  otherwise.  We  think  the  earth 
is  all  the  better,  and  even  all  the  more  beautiful  for 
rough  and  rugged  rocks,  for  horrid  precipices,  huge  chasms, 
and  dreary  caverns.  So  far  from  regarding  the  rough  and 
rugged  rocks  as  deformities,  we  look  on  them  as  ornaments. 
So  far  from  appearing  to  us  as  an  evil,  they  appear  a  good. 
Even  the  impassable  morasses,  and  the  deserts  of  barren 
sands  may  have  their  use.  If  man  had  met  with  nothing 
in  the  state  of  the  earth  that  stood  in  the  way  of  his  will 
or  pleasure ;  if  he  had  met  with  nothing  in  the  shape  of 


58  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

difficulty  or  inconvenience,  it  would  have  been  a  terrible 
calamity.  All  man's  powers  are  developed  and  perfected 
by  exertion  ;  and  without  exertion, — without  vigorous  ex- 
ertion— he  would  not,  as  at  present  constituted,  be  capable 
of  enjoying  life.  Man  cannot  be  happy  without  work. 
We  therefore  believe  that  it  was  wise  and  kind  in  God,  in- 
dependent of  Adam's  sin,  to  make  impassable  morasses, 
and  barren  deserts,  &c.,  to  exercise  man's  powers  of  mind 
and  body  in  draining  the  morasses,  and  fertilizing  the  de- 
serts. We  believe  that  the  earth  was  very  good ;  but  we 
believe  that  the  rough  and  rugged  rocks,  the  horrid  preci- 
pices, huge  chasms,  dreary  caverns,  with  the  deep  impassa- 
ble morasses,  and  the  deserts  of  barren  sands,  were  parts  of 
the  earth's  goodness, — were  manifestations  both  of  the  wis- 
dom and  goodness  of  God. 

Wesley  thinks  there  were  mountains  on  the  earth  before 
sin  was  committed,  but  that  their  sides  were  not  abrupt  or 
difficult  of  ascent ;  that  they  rose  and  fell  by  almost  insen- 
sible degrees.  This  passage  also  goes  on  the  false  supposi- 
tion, that  whatever  things  would  be  likely  to  render  great 
exertion  necessary  on  the  part  of  man,  would  be  an  evil ; 
whereas  such  things  are  among  man's  greatest  blessings. 

Wesley  farther  tells  us,  that  there  were  no  agitations 
within  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  no  violent  convulsions,  no 
concussions  of  the  earth,  no  earthquakes,  no  eruptions  of 
fire,  no  volcanoes,  or  burning  mountains.  There  is  proof 
however,  that  there  were  all  these  things,  not  only  before  sin 
was  committed^  but  before  man  himself  icas  created. 

Nor  do  we  regard  earthquakes  and  volcanoes  as  evils. 
They  arc  calculated  even  at  the  present  to  answer  good 
ends.  They  tend  to  make  men  feel  their  absolute  depend- 
ence upon  God,  and  thus  lead  them  to  obey  His  law. 
They  arc  striking  revelations  of  God's  power,  and  per- 
petual lessons  of  piety.     And  they  have  other  uses. 

He  says,  "  If  Vesuvius,  Etna,  or  Hecla,  existed  before 
sin  was  committed,  they  were  covered  M'ith  a  verdant  man- 
tle from  the  top  to  the  bottom."  But  is  a  mountain  either 
better  or  more  beautiful  for  being  covered  witli  a  verdant 
mantle  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  ?  Is  it  either  better  or 
more  beautiful  for  having  no  abrupt  sides,  difficult  of  as- 
cent,— for  rising  and  falling  by  almost  insensible  degrees? 


Wesley's  theological  fancies.  59 

We  think  the  contrary.  The  variety  of  scenery  presented 
by  mountains  in  their  present  state,  is  most  beautiful.  The 
abruptness  of  the  sides  of  mountains  contriButes  infinitely 
both  to  the  beauty  of  the  mountain,  and  to  the  beauty  of  the 
earth  in  general ;  and  the  toil  of  climbing  up  the  steep  as- 
cent of  a  mountain  is  one  of  the  blessings  and  pleasures  of 
life.  We  should  be  sorry  if  there  were  no  hills  so  steep  as 
to  be  difficult  of  ascent.  We  should  be  sorry  if  the  earth 
had  no  mountains  with  abrupt  sides,  and  black,  and  brown, 
and  rugged  laces.  We  should  be  very  sorry  if  the  face  of 
the  earth  were  covered  with  one  unvaried  mantle  of  green. 
Green  is  very  pleasant,  and  it  is  well  that  the  greater  part 
of  the  earth  is  covered  with  green  ;  but  variety  also  is  plea- 
sant ;  and  green  itself  would  cease  to  be  pleasant  if  there 
were  nothing  else  but  green. 

Wesley  adds,  that  there  was  probably  no  sea  on  the  sur- 
face of  the  earth  in  its  paradisiacal  state,  none  until  the 
great  deep  burst  the  barriers  which  were  originally  appointed 
for  it ;  and  he  adds,  that  there  was  not  then  that  need  of 
the  ocean  for  navigation  which  there  is  now,  as  every  place 
yielded  all  that  was  necessary  to  man's  welfare  and  pleasure. 
We  answer.     The  idea  that  the  ocean  was  given  to  facilitate 
communication  between  different  nations,  makes  us  smile. 
Suppose  there  had  been  no  ocean,  should  we  have  had  a 
long  way  to  go  to  get  into  the  next  country,  the  country 
nearest  to  us  ?     Just  the  contrary.     If  there  had  been  no 
ocean,  there  would  have  been  land  in  its  place,  and  we 
should  neither  have  had  to  cross  water  nor  land  to  get  to 
it.     It  would  have  come  up  close  to  our  own  country.  We 
have  all  the  same  travelling  in  order  to  have  communica- 
tion with  the  inhabitants  of  other  countries  when  we  have 
crossed  the  ocean,  that  we  should  have  had,  to  obtain  com- 
munication with  neighboring  countries,  if  there  had  been 
no  ocean  at  all.     The  ocean  was  intended  for  other  purpo- 
ses.    The  use  of  the  ocean,  one  of  its  'principal  uses  at  least, 
is  to  temper  the  climates  and  seasons  of  the  earth.     If  the 
earth  were  one  unbroken  continent,  the  summers  would  be 
intolerably  hot,  and  the  winters  would  be  intolerably  cold, 
and  the  changes  from  winter  to  summer  would  be  so  violent, 
and  work  such  fearful  havoc,  as  to  render  the  earth  uninhabi- 
table.    By  means  of  the  ocean,  those  intolerable  inconve- 


60  MODERN  SKEPTICISM. 

niences  are  avoided.  The  sea,  which  is  never  so  cold  in 
winter  as  the  land,  tempers  the  air  as  it  blows  over  it,  and 
thus  moderates  the  cold  of  the  land.  The  sea  also,  which 
is  never  so  warm  in  summer  as  the  land,  tempers  the  air 
again,  and  breathes  coolness  and  freshness  over  the  heated 
land.  Neither  heat  nor  cold  affects  the  sea  so  suddenly  or 
so  violently  as  it  affects  the  land.  A  few  days  of  summer 
heat  are  sufficient  to  make  the  solid  earth  quite  hot, — so 
hot,  in  many  cases,  that  you  cannot  bear  your  naked  hand 
upon  it  long.  Yet  this  same  amount  of  summer  heat 
will  make  scarcely  any  perceptible  difference  in  the  waters 
of  the  ocean.  Then  again,  in  winter,  a  few  days  severe 
frost  will  make  the  solid  earth,  and  especially  the  stones 
and  metals,  so  cold,  that  they  would  blister  a  delicate  skin, 
if  pressed  against  them  ;  while  they  make  scarcely  any 
perceptible  difference  upon  the  waters  of  the  ocean.  The 
ocean  sits  on  its  low  throne  like  the  monarch  of  this  lower 
world,  controlling  the  elements,  tempering  the  heat  and 
the  cold,  and  thus  preserving  the  earth  and  its  living  in- 
habitants from  harm. 

Wesley  tells  us  farther,  that  before  the  sin  of  Adam, 
"The  air  was  always  serene  and  always  friendly  to  man." 
Now  the  air  is  still  sdways^ friendly  toman.  Even  when  it 
comes  in  the  form  of  hurricanes  and  tempests,  it  is  so.  It 
is  doing  work,  even  then,  good  work,  which  gentle  breezes 
are  unable  to  do.  It  is  carrying  away  dangers  which  gen- 
tler currents  of  air  would  not  have  the  power  to  carry 
away.  And  even  when  they  cause  destruction  in  their 
course,  they  are  still  performing  friendly  offices  to  man. 
They  are  inspiring  him  with  a  livelier  consciousness  of 
his  absolute  dependence  upon  God,  and  of  the  folly  of  re- 
sisting His  will.  They  are  exercising  his  intellectual 
powers,  by  leading  him  to  devise  means  for  his  protection 
from  their  fury,  and  obliging  him  also  to  exert  his  bodily 
powers  in  carrying  out  the  devices  of  his  intellect.  They 
arc,  in  fact,  contributing  to  make  him  a  wiser,  a  stronger, 
a  better,  a  liappier,  and  in  all  respects,  a  completer,  and  a 
diviner  being  than  he  otherwise  would  be.  We  agree 
therefore  witli  Wesley  that  the  air  before  Adam  sinned 
was  ahvays  friendli/  to  man;  but  we  do  not  agree  with  him 
in  his  notions  as  to  Avhat  constituted  its  friendliness ;  nor  do 


WESLEY'S   THEOLOGICAL   FANCIES.  61 

we  agree  with  liim  in  the  notion,  that  since  the  sin  of  Adam 
the  air  lias  ceased  to  be  friendly,  or  even  proved  to  be  less 
friendly,  to  man.  We  believe  that  the  aif  is  as  friendly  to 
man  now  as  it  ever  was, — that  it  does  him  as  little  mis- 
chief, that  it  contributes  as  much  to  his  well-being  and 
comfort,  as  it  ever  did. 

Wesley  further  says,  the  sun  was  situated  at  the  most 
exact  distance  from  the  earth,  so  as  to  yield  a  sufficient 
quantity  of  heat,  neither  too  little  nor  too  much,  to  every 
part  of  it.  He  further  intimates  that  there  was  at  first  no 
inclination  of  the  earth's  axis,  and  that  the  seasons  and 
the  degree  of  heat  and  cold  were,  in  consequence,  the  same 
all  the  world  over,  and  all  the  year  round.  All  these 
statements  seem  erroneous  in  the  extreme.  The  supply  of 
heat  to  the  different  parts  of  the  earth  does  not  depend  al- 
together on  the  distance  of  the  sun  from  the  earth,  as  Wes- 
ley intimates,  but  on  the  motions  of  the  earth  around  the 
sun  and  upon  its  own  axis.  Wesley  seems  to  imagine  that 
if  the  axis  of  the  earth  were  not  inclined,  or  elevated  at  one 
end,  the  earth  would  receive  from  the  sun  the  same  quan- 
tity of  heat  through  every  part ;  whereas  nothing  could  be 
farther  from  the  truth.  If,  as  Wesley  expresses  it,  "  This 
oblique  globe  had  not  been  turned  askance,"  some  parts  of 
the  earth  would  have  received  from  the  sun  scarcely  any 
heat  at  all ;  they  would  have  received  neither  light  nor 
heat,  except  in  such  slight  measures  as  to  be  altogether 
useless.  The  arctic  regions  and  the  antarctic  regions  must 
have  been  alike  uninhabitable.  That  turning  of  the  ob- 
lique globe  askance,  which  Wesley  represents  as  the  cause 
of  extreme  heat  and  cold,  was  the  very  thing  to  j^r event 
those  extremes,  or  to  reduce  them  to  the  lowest  possible 
point,  and  to  secure  to  every  part  of  the  globe,  as  far  as 
possible,  an  equal  amount  of  light  and  warmth.  I  say  as 
far  as  possible;  for  to  secure  to  every  part  of  the  earth 
exactly  the  same  amount  of  light  and  heat  from  one  sun,  is 
impossible.  Place  a  little  globe  in  what  position  you  will 
with  respect  to  a  neighboring  candle,  and  fix  the  axis  of 
that  globe  as  you  please,  and  move  that  globe ;  give  the 
globe  a  motion  upon  its  own  axis,  and  another  motion 
round  the  light  near  which  it  is  placed,  and  you  will  find 
it  impossible  to  secure  to  every  part  of  that  globe  exactly 


62  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

the  same  amount  of  light  and  heat.  By  inclining  the  axis 
of  the  globe,  or  as  Wesley  expresses  it,  turning  it  askance, 
as  the  axis  of  the  earth  is  inclined  or  turned  askance,  you 
may  secure  the  greatest  possible  equality  of  light  and  heat 
to  every  part ;  but  still  that  greatest  possible  equality  will 
be  a  considerable  inequality.  So  far,  therefore,  from  the 
polar  regions  being  made  colder  or  darker  by  the  globe 
being  turned  askance,  they  are  indebted  to  that  very  ob- 
liqueness of  the  earth's  axis,  and  that  apparent  irregularity 
of  its  motions,  for  the  chief  portion  of  that  light  and  heat 
which  they  receive.  How  Wesley  came  to  s])eak  so  erro- 
neously on  this  subject,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  know,  as  he  must, 
one  would  think,  have  "understood  the  first  elements  of 
geography  and  astronomy.  Yet  his  words  are  at  variance 
with  the  first  elements  of  those  popular  sciences. 

But  it  would  take  up  too  much  room  to  notice  all  the 
unauthorized  statements  of  Mr.  Wesley  on  this  subject.  We 
have  said  enough  to  show  how  the  most  conscientious  and 
best-intentioned  man  may  err  on  theological  subjects,  and 
what  need  young  Christians  have  to  be  somewhat  critical 
and  careful  in  adopting  and  testing  their  religious  opinions. 
There  are  other  sermons  of  Wesley  which  are  as  much  at  va- 
riance with  Scripture  as  the  one  we  have  had  under  no- 
tice. I  have  not  his  sermons  at  hand  just  now,  but  if  I 
remember  right,  his  remarks  on  the  righteousness  of  the 
Scribes  and  Pharisees,  in  his  sermon  on  that  subject,  are 
quite  at  variance  with  the  statements  of  Christ. 

And  Wesley  was  one  of  the  best,  one  of  the  most  honest 
and  conscientious,  one  of  the  most  single-minded  men  on 
the  face  of  the  earth.  No  man,  I  imagine,  was  ever  more 
anxious  to  be  right, — no  one  was  ever  more  desirous  to 
know  and  teach  God's  truth  in  all  its  i)urity,  and  in 
everything  to  do  God's  will  and  bless  mankind.  And  he 
knew  and  chose  the  right  standard  of  truth  and  goodness, 
and  honestly  endeavored  to  conform  to  it  botli  in  thought 
and  deed  and  word.  Yet  he  could  err  in  this  strange  and 
wholesale  way.  What  then  may  we  expect  from  other 
theological  writere  ?  Many  of  the  theologians  whose  wri- 
tings influence  the  Church  were  not  very  good  men ;  they 
were  selfish,  ambitious,  proud  and  worldly.  Some  were 
idle,  dreamy,   careless,  godless.     And   others,  who   were 


THEOLOGICAL     FICTIONS.  63 

piously  disposed,  never  deliberately  adopted  the  Bible  as 
their  rule  of  faith  and  practice.  They  never  set  themselves 
to  conform  to  it,  as  the  standard  of  trutli  and  goodness. 
They  adopted  or  inherited  the  faiths  or  traditions  of  their 
predecessors,  never  suspecting  them  of  error,  and  never  in- 
quiring whether  they  were  true  or  not.  The  idea  of  testing 
or  correcting  either  their  way  of  thinking  or  their  way  of 
talking  on  religious  subjects,  by  the  teachings  of  Christ, 
never  entered  their  minds.  They  lived  at  ease,  dreaming 
rather  than  thinking,  and  talking  in  their  sleep,  and  filling 
great  folios  with  their  idle  utterances.  What  kind  of 
thoughts,  and  Avhat  kind  of  words  were  we  likely  to  find 
in  the  writings  of  men  like  these?  Robert  Hal!  is  re- 
ported to  have  described  the  works  of  the  celebrated  John 
Owen  as  "  A  continent  of  mud."  There  are  others 
whose  writings  might  be  justly  described  as  volumes  of 
smoke.  Mere  wind  they  are  not,  but  foul,  black,  blinding 
smoke.  And  writings  of  this  description  are  published  or 
republished  in  great  quantities  to  the  present  day.  And 
people  read  them,  and  fill  themselves  with  wind  and  filthy 
fumes,  and  wrap  themselves  in  smoky,  pitchy  clouds,  and  go 
through  the  world  in  a  spiritual  darkness  thick  enough  to 
be  felt. 

This  smoke,"  this  blackness  and  darkness,  I  could  not 
endure.  I  was  anxious  beyond  measure  to  free  myself 
from  its  bewildering  and  blinding  power,  and  to  get  into 
the  clear  fresh  air,  and  the  bright  and  cheerful  light,  of 
simple  Christian  truth.  And  hence  the  freedom  and  eager- 
ness of  my  investigations,  and  the  liberty  I  took  in  modi- 
fying my  belief. 

It  may  be  said  that  many  of  the  doctrines  which  I  have 
set  down  as  unscriptural,  are  of  little  importance ;  and  that 
is  really  the  case.  We  ought,  therefore,  to  be  the  more 
ready  to  give  them  up.  Why  contend  for  doctrines  of  no 
moment  ?  But  some  of  them  are  important.  They  are  re- 
volting and  mischievous  errors,  and  when  they  are  regarded 
as  parts  of  Christianity,  they  tend  to  make  men  infidels. 
And  in  many  cases  they  stagger  the  faith,  and  lessen  the 
comfort,  and  injure  the  souls  of  Christians.  And  even  the 
less  important  ones  do  harm  when  taken  to  be  parts  of  the 
religion  of  Christ.     You  cannot  make  thoughtful,  sharp- 


64  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

visioned  men  believe  that  Jesus  came  into  the  world,  and 
lived  and  died  to  pro2)agate  trifles.  Trifles  therefore  are 
no  longer  trifles  when  set  forth  as  Christian  doctrines. 
And  we  have  enough  to  believe  and  think  about  without 
occupying  our  minds  with  childish  fancies.  And  we  have 
things  enough  of  high  importance  to  preach  and  write 
about,  without  spending  our  time .  and  strength  on  idle 
dreams. 

And  the  apparently  harmless  fictions  prop  up  the  hurt- 
ful ones.  And  they  lessen  the  influence  of  great  truths. 
And  they  make  religion  appear  suspicious  or  contemptible 
to  men  of  sense.  They  disgust  some.  They  give  occasion 
to  the  adversaries  to  speak  reproachfully. 

And  if  you  tolerate  fictions  afall  in  Christianity,  where 
will  you  stop  ?  And  if  you  do  not  stop  somewhere,  Chris- 
tianity will  disappear,  and  a  mass  of  worthless  and  disgust- 
ing follies  will  take  its  place.  The  new  creation  will  vanish, 
and  chaos  come  again. 

And  again.  A  large  proportion  of  the  controversies  of 
the  Church  are  about  men's  inventions.  Christ's  own 
doctrines  do  not  so  often  provoke  opposition  as  the  tra- 
ditions of  the  elders ;  nor  do  they,  when  assailed,  require 
so  much  defending.  They  defend  themselves.  "  The 
devil's  Avay  of  undoing,"  says  Baxter,  "  is  by  overdoing. 
To  bring  religious  zeal  into  disrepute,  he  makes  some 
zealous  to  madness,  to  persecution,  to  blood.  To  dis- 
credit freedom  he  urges  its  advocates  into  lawlessness. 
To  discredit  Christian  morality,  he  induces  some  to  carry 
it  to  the  extreme  of  asceticism.  To  discredit  needful  au- 
thority, he  makes  rulers  of  the  State  into  despots,  and 
persuades  the  rulers  of  the  Church  to  claim  infallibility. 
To  discredit  Christianity,  he  adds  to  it  human  inventions." 
Wesley  has  a  similar  sentiment.  "If  you  place  Christian 
perfection  too  high,  you  drive  it  out  of  the  world."  And 
it  is  certain,  that  an  infinite  amount  of  hostility  to  Chris- 
tianity is  owing  to  the  folly  of  divines  in  supplementing 
its  simple  and  practical  doctrines,  by  speculative  and  unin- 
telligible theories.  "  The  one  great  evidence  of  the  divinity 
of  Christianity,"  says  one,  "the  master-evidence,  the  evi- 
dence with  which  all  othei*  evidences  will  stand  or  fall, 
is  Christ  Himself  speaking  by   His    own   word."      But 


MEN    WANT    COMMON    SENSE    RELIGION.  65 

If  you  add  to  His  words^  foolish  fancies,  or  revolting  ab- 
surdities, or  immoral  speculations  of  your  ojvn,  you  destroy 
that  evidence.     You  make  men  infidels. 

There  are  multitudes  at  the  present  day  to  whom  you' 
must  present  religion  in  an  intelligible  and  rational,  and  in 
a  grave  and  commanding  light,  if  you  would  induce  them 
to  give  it  their  serious  attention.  You  can  no  more  in- 
terest them  in  mysteries  and  nonsense,  in  speculative  and  un- 
practical fictions,  than  you  can  change  the  course  of  nature.. 
The  time  for  theological  trifling  is  gone  by.  The  time  has 
gone  by  for  any  form  of  religion  to  make  its  way  which 
does  not  consist  in  solid  goodness,  or  which  teaches  doctrines, 
or  uses  forms,  that  do  not  tend  to  promote  solid  goodness. 
If  religion  is  to  secure  the  attention  of  the  world, — if  it  is 
to  command  their  respect,  their  reverence  and  their  love, — 
if  it  is  to  conquer  their  hearts,  and  govern  their  lives,  and 
satisfy  their  souls, — if  it  is  to  become  the  great  absorbing 
subject  of  man's  thought,  and  the  governing  power  of 
our  race,  it  must  be  so  presented,  as  to  prove  itself  in  har- 
mony with  all  that  is  highest  and  best  in  man's  nature,  with 
all  thajb  is  most  beautiful  and  useful  in  life,  and  with  all 
that  is  beneficent  and  glorious  in  the  universe. 

In  a  word,  old  dreamy  theologies  with  their  barbarous 
dialects  and  silly  notions,  must  be  dropped  and  left  to  die, 
and  the  Church  and  the  ministry  must  live,  and  act,  and 
talk  as  men  who  are  dealing  with  the  grandest  and  most 
interesting  and  important  realities. 


CHAPTER  yil. 

FURTHER  INVESTIGATIONS  AND  THEIR  RESULTS. 

AS  ray  readers  will  have  seen  before  this,  the  changes  in 
my  views  were  rather  numerous,  if  not  always  of  great 
importance.     And  the  cases  I  have  given  are  but  samples  of 
many  other  changes.     The  fact  is,  I  pared  away  from  my 
creed  everything  that  was  not  plainly  Scriptural.     I  threw 
5 


66  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

aside  all  human  theories,  all  mere  guesses  about  religious 
matters.  I  also  dismissed  all  forced  or  fanciful  interpreta- 
tions of  Scripture  passages.  I  endeavored  to  free  Christian 
doctrines  from  all  corruptions,  jierversions,  or  exaggerations, 
retaining  only  the  pure  and  simple  teachings  of  Christ  and 
the  sacred  writings.  I  accepted  only  those  interpretations 
of  Scripture,  which  were  in  accordance  with  the  object  and 
drift  of  the  writer,  with  common  sense,  and  with  the  general 
tenor  of  the  sacred  volume,  I  paid  special  regard  to  the 
plainest  and  most  practical  portions  of  Scripture.  I  paid 
no  regard  to  doctrines  grounded  on  solitary  passages,  or  on 
texts  of  doubtful  meaning,  while  numerous  texts,  with 
their  meaning  on  their  very  faces,  taught  opposite  doc- 
trines. I  would  accept  nothing  that  seemed  irrational  from 
any  quarter,  unless  required  to  do  so  by  the  plain  unques- 
tionable oracles  of  God.  I  could  see  no  propriety  in 
Clu'istians  encumbering  their  minds  and  clogging  religion 
Avith  notions  bearing  plain  and  pal])able  marks  of  incon- 
sistency or  absurdity.  And  if  a  doctrine  presented  itself 
in  different  religious  writers  in  a  variety  of  forms,  I  always 
took  the  form  which  seemed  most  in  harmony  with  yeasou 
and  the  plainest  teachings  of  Scripture.  Some  writers  seemed 
to  take  pleasure  in  presenting  such  doctrines  as  the  Trinity, 
the  Atonement,  Salvation  by  Faith,  Eternal  Punishment, 
&c.,  in  the  most  incredible  and  repulsive  forms,  straining 
and  wresting  the  Scriptures  to  justify  their  mischievous  ex- 
travagances. Other  writers  would  say  no  more  on  those 
subjects  than  the  Scriptures  said,  and  would  put  what  the 
Scriptures  said  in  such  a  light  as  to  render  it  "  wortliy  of 
all  acceptation."  As  a  matter  of  course,  the  latter  kind  of 
writers  became  my  favorites.  Indeed  the  Scriptures  seemed 
always  to  favor  what  a])j)eared  most  rational  in  the  various 
creeds.  The  Scriptures  and  common  sense  seemed  ahvays 
in  remarkable  harmony.  The  doctrines  which  clashed  with 
reason  seemed  also  to  clash  with  Scripture  -.  and  I  felt  that 
in  rejecting  such  doctrines  I  was  jiromoting  the  honor  of 
God  and  of  Christ,  and  rendering  a  service  to  the  Church 
and  Christianity. 

I  was  sometimes  rather  tried  by  the  unwarranted  and 
inconsiderate  statements  of  my  brother  ministers.  Take  an 
instance.     A  preacher  one  night,  in  a  sermon  to  which  I 


FOLLY   OF    PREACHERS.  67 

was  listening,  said,  "  How  great  is  the  love  of  God  to  fallen 
man  !  Angels  sinned,  and  were  doomed*at  once  to  ever- 
lasting damnation.  No  Saviour  interposed  to  bring  them 
back  to  holiness  and  heaven.  No  ambassador  was  sent 
with  offers  of  pardon  to  beseech  them  to  be  reconciled  to 
God.  Man  sins,  and  the  Deity  Himself  becomes  incarnate. 
All  the  machinery  of  nature  and  all  the  resources  of  Hea- 
ven are  employed  to  save  him  from  destruction.  One  sin 
shuts  up  in  everlasting  despair  millions  of  spiritual  beings, 
while  a  thousand  transgressions  are  forgiven  to  man." 

Now  this  doctrine,  instead  of  reflecting  peculiar  glory  on 
God,  seemed  to  me  to  savor  of  blasphemy.  It  is  no  honor 
to  be  partial  or  capricious ;  it  is  a  reproach.  A  father  that 
should  be  tenderly  indulgent  to  one  of  his  children,  and 
rigidly  severe  to  the  rest,  would  be  regarded  with  indigna- 
tion. The  doctrine  of  Divine  partiality  shocks  both  our 
reason  and  our  moral  feelings.  And  it  is  not  scriptural. 
The  Bible  says  nothing  about  God  dooming  the  rebellious 
angels  to  perdition  for  one  sin,  without  any  attempt  to  bring 
them  back  to  obedience ;  but  it  does  say  that  God  is  good 
to  all,  and  that  His  tender  mercies  are  over  all  His  works. 
I  accordingly  rejected  the  doctrine.  There  was  quite  a 
multitude  of  doctrines  Avhich  entered  into  the  sermons  of 
many  of  my  brother  ministers,  which  never  found  their  way 
into  mine.  And  there  were  doctrines  which  entered  into 
my  discourses,  which  never  found  their  way  into  theirs. 
And  the  doctrines  which  we  held  and  preached  in  common, 
we  often  presented  in  very  different  forms,  and  put  into 
very  different  words.  They  could  say  a  multitude  of  things 
which  I  could  not  say;  things  which  I  could  find  no  kind 
of  warrant  for  saying.  When  we  met  together  after  hear- 
ing each  other  preach,  we  had  at  times  long  talks  about  our 
ditferent  views  and  ways  of  preaching.  I  was  free  in  ex- 
pressing my  thoughts  and  feelings,  especially  in  the  earlier 
years  of  my  ministry,  and  our  conversations  were  often 
very  animated. 

In  some  circuits,  I  induced  my  colleagues  to  join  me  in 
establishing  weekly  meetings  for  mutual  improvement  in 
religious  knowledge.  At  each  meeting  an  essay  w'as  read, 
on  some  subject  agreed  upon  at  a  former  meeting,  and  after 
the  essav  had  been  read  we  discussed  the  merits  both  of  the 


68  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

sentiments  it  embodied,  and  of  the  style  in  which  it  was 
written.  When  it  was  my  turn  to  prepare  an  essay,  I  gen- 
erally introduced  one  or  more  of  the  points  on  which  I  and 
my  colleagues  differed,  for  the  purpose  of  having  them  dis- 
cussed. '  I  stated  my  views  with  the  utmost  freedom,  and 
gave  every  encouragement  to  my  colleagues  to  state  theirs 
with  equal  freedom  in  return.  When  my  colleagues  read 
their  productions,  I  pointed  out  what  I  thought  erroneous 
or  defective  with  great  plainness  and  fidelity.  I  was  anx- 
ious both  to  learn  and  to  teach,  and  it  was  my  delight,  as 
it  was  my  duty  and  business,  to  endeavor  to  do  both.  I  was 
not,  however,  so  anxious  to  change  the  views  of  my  friends 
as  I  was  to  excite  in  them  a  thirst  for  knowledge.  And 
indeed  I  did  not  consider  it  of  so  much  importance  that  a 
man  should  accept  a  certain  number  of  truths,  or  particular 
doctrines,  as  that  he  should  have  a  sincere  desire,  and 
make  suitable  endeavors  to  understand  all  truth.  It  was 
idleness,  indifference,  a  state  of  mental  stagnation,  a  readi- 
ness carelessly  to  accept  whatever  might  come  in  the  way 
without  once  trying  to  test  it  by  Scripture  or  reason,  that  I 
particularly  disliked ;  and  to  cure  or  abate  this  evil,  I  ex- 
erted myself  to  the  utmost. 

When  I  was  stationed  in  Newcastle  in  1831, 1  met  with 
Foster's  Essays,  which  I  read  with  a  great  deal  of  eager- 
ness and  pleasure.  One  of  these  Essays  is  "  On  some  of 
the  Causes  by  which  Evangelical  Religion  has  been  Ren- 
dered Unacceptable  to  Persons  of  Cultivated  Taste  ?" 
Among  his  remarks  on  this  subject,  he  has  some  to  the  fol- 
lowing eU'eot : — 

i.  Christianity  is  the  religion  of  many  weak,  uncultiva- 
ted and  little-minded  people,  and  they,  by  their  unwise 
ways  of  talking  about  it,  and  by  their  various  defects  of 
character,  make  religion  look  weak,  and  poor,  and  im rea- 
sonable. And  many  receive  their  impression  or  ideas  of 
the  character  of  Christianity  more  from  tlie  exhibitions 
given  of  it  by  the  religious  people  with  whom  they  come 
in  contact,  than  from  the  exhibition  given  of  it  in  the  life 
and  teachings  of  its  great  Author,  or  from  the  characters 
and  writings  of  His  Apostles.  An  intelligent  and  cultiva- 
ted man,  for  instance,  falls  into  the  company  of  Christians 
who  know  little  either  of  the  teachings  of  Christ,  or  of  the 


FOSTER   ON   RELIGIOUS   NONSENSE.  69 

wonderful  facts  which  go  to  prove  their  truth  and  their  in- 
finite excellency — Christians  who  never  trouble  themselves 
about  such  matters,  and  who  look  on  it  as  no  good  sign 
when  people  show  a  disposition  to  inquire  seriously  into 
such  subjects.  Pie  hears  those  Christians  talk  about  reli- 
gion, but  can  find  nothing  in  their  conversation  but  strange 
and,  to  him,  unintelligible  expressions.  The  speakers  give 
proof  enough  of  excited  feelings,  but  show  no  sign  of  men- 
tal enlightenment.  If  he  asks  them  for  information  on  the 
great  principles  and  bearings  of  Christianity,  they  tell  him 
they  have  nothing  to  do  with  vain  philosophy. 

2.  The  man  of  taste  and  culture  hears  other  Christians 
harping  eternally  on  two  or  three  points,  adopted  perhaps 
from  some  dreamy  author,  and  denouncing  all  who  ques- 
tion the  correctness  of  their  version  of  the  Gospel,  as  here- 
tics or  infidels,  while  all  the  time  their  notions  have  little 
or  no  resemblance  either  to  the  Gospel  or  to  common  sense; 
but  are  at  best  only  perversions  or  distortions  of  Christian 
doctrines,  which  have  no  more  likeness  to  the  religion  of 
Christ  than  a  few  broken  bricks  have  to  a  beautiful  and 
magnificent  palace. 

3.  In  many  cases  the  Christians  with  whom  he  meets  have 
not  only  no  general  knowledge  of  religious  subjects,  but  no 
desire  for  such  k-nowledge.  The  Bible  is  their  book,  they 
say,  and  they  want  no  other.  And  they  make  but  a  pitiful 
use  of  that.  They  do  not  go  to  the  Bible  as  to  a  fountain 
of  infinite  knowledge,  whose  streams  of  truth  blend  natu- 
rally with  all  the  truths  in  the  universe,  but  merely  to  re- 
fresh their  minds  with  a  few  misinterpreted  passages,  which 
ignorance  and  bigotry  are  accustomed  to  use  to  support 
their  misconceptions  of  Christian  doctrine.  They  use  tlie 
book  not  to  make  them  wise,  but  to  keep  them  ignorant. 
They  dwell  for  ever  on  the  same  irrational  fancies,  and  re- 
peat them  for  ever  in  the  same  outlandish  jargon. 

4.  He  meets  with  other  Christians  who  read  a  little  in  other 
books  besides  the  Bible ;  but  it  is  just  those  books  that  help 
to  keep  them  from  understanding  the  meaning  of  the  Bible. 
And  the  portions  of  the  books  which  they  admire  most  and 
quote  oftenest,  are  the  silliest  and  most  erroneous  portions. 
They  put  darkness  for  light,  and  light  for  darkness.  The 
man  of  culture  speaks  to  them,  but  they  cannot  understand 


70  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

him.  His  thoughts  and  style  are  alike  out  of  their  line,  or 
beyond  their  capacity.  If  at  any  time  they  catch  a  glimpse 
of  his  meaning,  they  are  frightened  on  perceiving  that  his 
thoughts  are  not  an  exact  repetition  of  their  own. 

5.  Another  cause  which  has  tended  to  render  Christian- 
ity less  acceptable  to  men  of  taste  and  culture,  is  the  pecu- 
liar language  adopted  in  the  discourses  and  writings  of  its 
Teachers.  The  style  of  some  religious  teachers  is  low,  vul- 
gar. The  style  of  a  still  greater  number  is  barbarous. 
Men  soon  feel  the  language  of  the  Law  to  be  barbarous. 
They  would  feel  the  language  of  theology  to  be  as  barba- 
rous, if  they  were  not  accustomed  to  hear  it  or  read  it  so 
constantly.  The  way  in  which  the  greater  number  of  evan- 
gelical divines  express  themselves  is  quite  difierent  from 
that  in  which  men  generally  express  themselves.  Their 
whole  cast  of  phraseology  is  loeculiar.  You  cannot  hear 
five  sentences  without  feeling  that  you  are  listening  to  a 
dead  or  foreign  language.  To  put  it  into  good  current 
English  you  have  to  translate  it,  and  the  task  of  translation 
is  as  hard,  and  requires  as  much  study  and  practice,  as  that 
of  translating  Greek  or  Hebrew.  The  language  of  the  pul- 
pit and  of  religious  books  is  a  dialect  to  itself,  and  cannot 
be  used  in  common  life  or  common  aifairs.  If  you  try  to 
apply  it  to  anything  but  religion,  it  becomes  ridiculous, 
and  a  common  kind  of  wit  consists  in  speaking  of  common 
tilings  in  pulpit  phraseology.  A  foreign  heathen  might 
master  our  language  in  its  common  and  classical  forms,  and 
be  able  to  understand  both  our  ordinary  talk  and  our  ablest 
authors,  yet  find  himself  quite  at  a  loss  to  undei'stand  an 
evangelical  preacher  or  writer. 

Even  if  our  hcatlien  understood  religion  in  its  simj^ler 
and  more  natural  fonns,  he  would  still  })c  unable  to  under- 
stand the  common  run  of  religious  talkers  and  writers.  If 
he  had  religion  to  learn  from  sucli  teachers  and  writers,  he 
would  have  a  double  task,  first,  to  get  the  ideas,  and  then 
to  learn  the  uncouth  and  unnatural  language.  This  ]>ecu- 
liar  dialect  is  quite  unnecessary.  The  style  of  a  preacher 
or  a  religious  Avriter  might  be,  and,  allowing  for  a  few 
terms,  ought  to  be,  the  same  as  that  of  a  man  talking  about 
ordinary  affairs,  and  matters  of  common  interest  and  duty. 
The  want  of  this  is  one  great  cause  of  the  little  success, 


FOSTER    ON  RELIGIOUS   WRITERS.  71 

both  of  our  preachers  at  home,  and  of  our  missionaries 
abroad.  They  hide  beneath  an  unseemly  veil,  a  beauty 
that  should  strike  all  eyes,  and  win  all  hearts.  Their  style 
is  just  the  opposite  of  everything  that  can  instruct,  attract, 
command.  And  it  is  vain  to  expect  much  improvement 
in  the  present  generation  of  religious  teachers.  They  could 
not  get  a  good  style  without  a  long  and  careful  study  of 
good  authors,  and  for  this  many  of  them  have  neither  the 
taste  nor  the  needful  industry.  They  would  have  to  begin 
life  anew,  to  be  converted  and  become  as  little  children,  be- 
fore they  could  master  the  task.  They  cannot  think  of  re- 
ligion but  in  common  words.  They  cannot  think  there 
can  be  divine  truth  but  in  the  old  phrases.  To  discontinue 
them,  therefore,  and  use  others,  would  in  their  view,  be  to 
become  heretics  or  infidels.  In  truth,  many  of  them  seem 
to  have  no  ideas.  Their  phrases  are  not  vehicles  of  ideas, 
but  substitutes  for  them.  If  they  hear  the  ideas  which  their 
phrases  did  once  signifv,  expressed  ever  so  plainly  in  other 
language,  they  do  not  recognise  them,  and  instantly  suspect 
the  man  who  utters  them  of  unsoundness  in  the  faith,  and 
apply  to  him  all  the  abusive  terms  of  ecclesiastical  reproach. 
For  such  tlie  common  pulpit  jargon  is  the  convenient  re- 
fuge of  ignorance,  idleness  and  prejudice.  _ 

6.  Speaking  of  certain  kinds  of  religious  books,  Mr.  Fos- 
ter calls  them  an  accumulation  of  bad  writing,  under  which 
the  evangelical  theology  has  been  buried,  and  which  has 
contributed  to  bring  its  principles  into  disfavor.  He  adds: 
A  large  proportion  of  religious  books  may  be  sentenced  as 
bad  on  more  accounts  than  their  peculiarity  of  dialect.  One 
has  to  regret  that  their  authors  did  not  revere  the  dignity 
of  their  religion  too  much  to  surround  it  and  choke  it  witli 
their  works.  There  is  quite  a  multitude  of  books  wliich 
form  the  perfect  vulgar  of  religious  authorship, — a  vast  ex- 
hibition of  the  most  inferior  materials  that  can  be  called 
thought,  in  language  too  grovelling  to  be  called  style,  In 
these  books  you  are  mortified  to  see  how  low  religious 
thought  and  expression  can  sink ;  ancT  you  almost  wonder 
how  the  grand  ideas  of  God  and  Providence,  of  redemption 
and  eternity,  the  noblest  ideas  known,  can  shine  on  a  human 
mind,  without  imparting  some  small  occasional  degree  of 
dignity  to  its  train  of  thought.     You  can  make  allowances 


72  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

for  the  great  defects  of  private  Christians,  but  when  men 
obtrude  their  infinite  littleness  and  folly  on  the  public  in 
books,  you  can  hardly  help  regarding  them  as  inexcusable. 
True,  many  of  those  worthless  and  mischievous  books  are 
evermore  disappearing,  but  others  as  bad,  or  but  little  bet- 
ter, take  their  places.  Look  where  you  will  you  will  meet 
Avith  them.  What  estimate  can  a  man  have  of  Christianity 
who  receives  his  first  impressions  of  it  from  such  books  ? 

7.  There  are  other  religious  books  that  are  tolerable  as  to 
style,  but  Avhich  display  no  power  or  prominence  of  thought, 
no  living  vigor  of  expression ;  they  are  flat  and  dry  as  a 
plain  of  sand.  They  tease  you  with  the  thousandth  repeti- 
tion of  common-places,  causing  a  feeling  of  unspeakable 
v/eariness.  Though  the  author  is  surrounded  with  rich  im- 
measurable fields  of  truth  and  beauty,  he  treads  for  ever  the 
same  narrow  track  already  trodden  into  dust. 

8.  There  is  a  smaller  class  of  religious  writers  that  may  be 
called  mock-eloquent  writers.  They  try  at  a  superior  style, 
but  forget  that  true  eloquence  resides  essentially  in  the 
thought,  the  feeling,  the  character,  and  that  no  words  can 
make  genuine  eloquence  out  of  that  which  is  of  no  worth 
or  interest.     They  mistake  a  gaudy  verbosity  for  eloquence. 

9.  The  moral  and  theological  matcvials  of  many  religious 
books  are  as  fliiilty  as  their  style,  and  the  injury  tliey  do 
the  Gospel  is  incalculable.  Here  is  a  systematic  writer  in 
whose  hands  all  the  riches  and  magnificence  of  revelation 
shrink  into  a  meagre  list  of  doctrinal  points,  and  not  a  single 
verse  in  the  Bible  is  allowed  to  tell  its  meaning,  or  even 
allowed  to  have  one,  till  it  has  been  forced  under  torture  to 
maintain  one  of  his  points.  You  are  next  confronted  with 
a  prater  about  the  invisible  world,  that  makes  you  shrink 
away  into  darkness ;  and  then  you  are  met  with  a  grim 
zealot  for  sucii  a  revolting  theory  of  the  Divine  attributes 
and  government,  that  he  seems  to  delight  in  representing 
the  Deity  as  a  dreadful  king  of  furies,  whose  dominion  is 
overshadowed  with  vengeance,  whose  nnisic  is  tlie  cries  of 
victims,  and  whose  glory  requires  to  bo  illustrated  by  the 
ruin  of  His  creation.  One  cannot  help  dejiloring  that  the 
great  mass  of  religious  books  were  not  consigned  to  the 
flames  before  they  were  permitted  to  reach  the  eyes  of  the 
public.     Books,  which  exhibit  Christianity  and  its  claims 


FOSTER    ON   RELIGIOUS   WRITERS.  73 

with  insipid  feebleness,  or  which  cramp  its  majesty  into  an 
artificial  form  at  once  distorted  and  mean^  must  grievously 
injure  its  influence.  An  intelligent  Christian  cannot  look 
into  such  works  without  feeling  thankful  that  they  were  not 
the  books  from  which  he  got  his  conceptions  of  the  Gospel. 
Nothing  would  induce  him  to  put  them  into  the  hands  of 
an  inquiring  youth,  and  he  would  be  sorry  to  see  tliem  on 
the  table  of  an  infidel,  or  in  the  library  of  his  children,  or 
of  a  student  for  the  ministry. — Fostei-'s  Essays. 

These  sentiments  answered  so  astonishingly  to  my  own 
thoughts,  that  I  read  them  with  the  greatest  delight.  I 
laid  them,  in  substance,  before  my  brethren,  I  explained 
them.  I  illustrated  them  by  quotations  from  books  and 
sermons.  I  gave  them  instances  of  the  various  faults  point- 
ed out  by  Foster,  taken  from  their  favorite  authors,  and  in 
some  cases  from  the  discourses  of  living  preachers.  I  wrote 
several  essays  on  the  causes  of  the  slow  progress  made  l)y 
Christianity,  in  which  I  embodied  and  illustrated  many  of 
Foster's  views.  I  wrote  essays  on  "  Preaching  Christ,''  in 
which  I  embodied  and  illustrated  Wesley's  views  on  the 
subject,  including  his  condemnation  of  what,  in  his  days, 
was  flxlsely  called  "  Gospel  Preaching."  I  wrote  quite  a 
large  volume  on  these  subjects,  and  read  the  contents,  so  far 
as  opportunity  offered,  to  my  colleagues  at  our  weekly  meet- 
ings. I  was  badly  requited  for  my  pains.  In  some  cases 
my  colleagues  listened  to  me  and  stared  at  me  Avith  amaze- 
ment. They  thought  I  "  brought  strange  things  to  their 
ears."  One,  who  is  now  dead,  said  I  should  be  really  an 
excellent  fellow,  he  believed,  if  I  could  only  get  the  cob- 
webs swept  out  of  my  upper  stories.  Everything  beyond 
his  own  poor  standing  common-places  was  cobwebs  to  him, 
poor  fellow.  The  remarks  on  this  subject  in  the  life  of 
the  preacher  referred  to,  sliow  that  my  ideas  and  plans  at 
that  time  are  not  3'et  understood  by  all  his  brethren. 

Travel,  they  say,  frees  men  from  their  prejudices.  The 
more  they  see  of  the  wonders  of  other  countries,  and  of  the 
manners  of  other  nations,  the  more  moderate  becomes  their 
estimate  of  the  marvels,  and  of  some  of  the  views  and  cus- 
toms of  their  native  land.  And  it  is  certain  that  the  more  a 
man  travels  through  good  books  by  men  of  different 
Churches  from  his  own,  the  less  important  will  some  of  the 


74  moder:s  skepticism. 

peculiarities  of  his  own  denomination  appear.  As  igno- 
rance of  the  "vvorld  is  favorable  to  blind  patriotism  and  home 
idolatry,  so  ignorance  of  Churches,  and  systems,  and  liter- 
atures dilfereut  from  our  own,  is  favorable  to  bigotry  and 
sectarianism.  And  as  free  and  extended  intercourse  with 
foreign  nations  tends  to  enlarge  and  liberalize  the  mind  ;  so 
the  more  extensive  a  Christian's  acquaintance  is  with  ditJer- 
ent  branches  of  the  Church,  and  with  their  customs,  and 
■writings,  and  manners,  the  more  likely  will  his  sectarian 
bigotry  and  intolerance  be  to  give  place  to  liberal  views 
ond  to  Christian  moderation  and  charity. 

But  just  in  proportion  as  he  becomes  the  subject  of  this 
blessed  transformation,  will  he  be  regarded  with  suspicion 
and  dread  by  those  who  still  remain  the  slaves  of  ignoi"ance 
and  bigotry. 

It  was  so  in  my  case.  I  travelled  through  extensive  re- 
gions of  religious  literature  ditiereut  from  that  of  my  own 
Church,  and  I  did  so  with  an  earnest  desire  to  learn  what 
■was  true  and  good  in  all.  The  consequence  wa:?  the  loss  of 
mauv  prejudices,  and  the  moditicatiou  of  many  more.  I 
lost  mv  prejudices  against  all  kinds  of  Christians.  I  could 
believe  in  the  s;dvation  both  of  Quakers  and  Catholics,  and 
of  all  between,  if  they  were  well  disposed,  God-fearing, 
gooil-living  men.  I  could  believe  in  the  salivation  of  all, 
not  excepting  Jews,  Turks,  and  Pag-ans,  who  lived  accord- 
ing to  the  light  they  had,  and  honestly  and  faithfully  sought 
for  further  light.  I  believed  that  in  every  nation  he  that 
feiired  God  and  worked  righteousness  was  acceptcil  of  Him. 
I  beliqved  that  honest,  faithful  souls  among  the  pagans  of 
old  would  be  found  at  last  among  the  save<.l.  I  regarded 
the  moral  and  spiritual  light  of  the  ancient  pag-ans  as  light 
from  heaven,  as  divine  revelation.  I  lookwl  on  all  man- 
kind as  equally  objei^ts  of  Gixl's  ctire  and  love,  as  His 
children,  under  His  tuition,  though  placeil  for  a  time  in 
ditferent  schools,  with  ditferent  teachers,  and  with  ditferent 
lesson-books.  I  came  to  believe  that  Gxxl  was  as  goixl  as 
a  good  man,  as  givxi  as  the  kindest  and  best  of  fathers,  and 
even  hotter,  and  I  felt  assureil  that  He  would  not  }>ermit 
anv  well-dispose<i  soul  on  earth  to  perish.  I  believeii  that 
some  who  were  tii-st  in  privileges,  would  be  among  the  last 
in  blessedness ;  and  tiiat  some  tiiat  were  hist  in  privileges 
would  be  amonor  the  first  iu  blessedness. 


THE   CURE   OF    PREJUDICE.  75 

Yet  I  believed  in  missions.  I  believed  that  it  was  the 
duty  of  all  to  share  their  blessiogs  witlijuthers  ;  to  ffive  to 
othere  the  light  that  God  had  bestowed  on  them,— that 
though  pagam  might  be  saved  without  Christian  lioht  if 
they  lived  according  to  the  light  thev  had,  Christkint Qonld 
not  be  saved  if  they  did  not,  as  they  had  opportuuitv,  im- 
part their  superior  light  to  the  pagans. 

I  respected  the  good  moral  priSciples,  and  the  portions 
of  religious  truth  that  I  found  in  the  ancient  Greek  and 
Komau  authors,  just  as  I  lamented  and  condemned  the 
moral  and  religious  erroi-s  that  I  found  in  Christian  books. 

"  I  seized  on  truth  where'er  'twas  found, 
On  Christian  or  on  Heathen  ground," 

ajid  made  it  part  of  my  creed  :  and  I  warred  with  error 
though  entrenched  in  the  strong-holds  of  the  Church.  I 
respected  Avhat  was  true  and  good  in  all  denominations  of 
Christians;  and  even  in  all  denominations  that  m7/f(Z  them- 
selves Christians,  whether  they  came  near  enough  to  Christ 
to  entitle  them  to  that  name  or  not.  If  I  saw  anvthing 
good  in  the  creeds  or  the  characters  of  other  denomiiiations 
1  accepted  it,  and  tried  to  embody  it  in  mv  own  creed  and 
character. 

And  I  did,  as  I  thought,  see  good  in  everv  one  that  I 
did  not  see  in  others.     I  could  see   things  in  some  Pro- 
testants, which  I  thought  Catholics  would  do  well  to  imi- 
tate ;   and   I   could  see   things  among  Catholics,  which  I 
thought  Protestants  would  do  well  to  imitate.     I  could  see 
things  in  Quakerism,  which   it  would   have  been   to  the 
honor  and  advantage  of  other  Christians  to  imitate ;  and  I 
could  see  good  things  in  other  Chnrches  which  Quakers 
would  have  done  well  to  copv.     I  could  see  even  amono- 
L  nitarians  of  the  older  and  better  class,  an   attention   to 
matters  practical,  a  naturalness  of  stvle,  and  a  freedom  from 
certain    auti-christian    expressions    and   notions,  which    it 
would  have  been  well  for  orthodox  Churches  to  have  made 
their  own ;  and  I  could  see  where  Unitarians  had  both  o-one 
too  tar  through  their  dislike  of  orthodox   error,  and  fallen 
short  of  truth  and  duty  through  dread  of  orthodox  weak- 
nesses or  imperfections.     And  I  had  aa  idea,  that  it  would 


76  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

be  well  in  all  Churches,  instead  of  avoiding,  or  scolding,  or 
abusing  one  another,  to  study  each  other  lovingly,  with  a 
view  to  find  how  much  of  truth  and  goodness  they  could 
find  in  each  other,  that  they  could  not  find  in  themselves, 
and  how  much  of  error  and  imperfection  they  could  find  in 
themselves,  that  they  did  •  not  find  in  others.  I  saw  that 
no  Church  had  got  all  the  truth,  or  all  the  goodness,  and 
that  no  Church  was  free  from  anti-christian  errors  and  de- 
fects. I  saw  that  to  make  a  perfect  Christian  creed,  we 
should  have  to  take  something  out  of  every  creed,  and  leave 
other  things  in  every  creed  behind ;  and  that  to  secure  a 
perfect  exhibition  of  Christian  virtue,  and  a  perfect  system 
of  Christian  operations,  we  should  have  to  borrow  from 
each  other  habits,  customs,  rules  and  machinery  in  the 
same  way,  and  leave  parts  of  our  own  to  fall  into  disuse. 

And  I  was  willing  to  act  on  this  principle.  I  saw  that 
Christ  and  Christianity  were  more  and  better  than  all  the 
Churches  and  all  the  creeds  on  earth  put  together,  and  that 
all  the  Churches  had  errors  end  faults  or  failings  which 
Christ  and  Christianity  had  not ;  and  I  had  an  idea  that 
one  of  the  grandest  sights  conceivable  would  be  to  set  all 
the  disciples  of  Christ  to  work  striving  to  get  rid  of  every- 
thing anti-christian,  and  to  come  as  near  to  Christ,  and 
to  each  other,  as  possible,  both  in  truth  and  virtue. 

But  to  proceed  with  my  story. 

I  frequently  spoke  on  religious  subjects  with  my  col- 
leagues when  we  met,  along  with  the  leading  laymen,  at 
the  houses  of  our  friends.  Some  new  book,  some  particu- 
lar sermon,  or  some  article  in  the  magazine,  or  perhaps  the 
fulness  of  one's  own  mind  with  the  subjects  of  one's  studies, 
would  turn  tlie  conversation  on  the  state  of  the  Church  and 
the  ministry,  and  tiie  need  of  improvement  in  the  theolog- 
ical systems  and  dialects  of  the  day,  and  the  manner  of 
handling  religious  subjects  generally,  both  in  the  pulpit 
and  through  the  press.  Whatever  the  subject  under  con- 
sideration might  bo,  I  expressed  myself  with  the  utmost 
freedom.  I  stated  my  beliefs  and  disbeliefs,  my  doubts  and 
my  convictions,  witliout  the  least  reserve.  And  I  as  read- 
ily gave  my  reasons  for  my  views.  I  was  generally  })re- 
pared  with  the  passages  of  Scripture  bearing  on  the  subjects 
introduced,  and  gave  them,  with  my  impressions  of  their 


MY   COLLEAGUES   IN   THE   MINISTRY.  77 

meaning.  And  I  did  my  best  to  draiv  my  colleagues  and 
friends  into  a  thorough  investigation  of  every  point,  in 
hopes  that  we  might  all  come  as  near  as  possible  in  our 
views  to  a  full  conformity  to  the  teachings  of  Christ.  The 
results  of  these  conversations,  and  of  my  other  labors,  were 
in  some  cases,  very  satisfactory.  Some  were  led  to  exercise 
tiieir  minds  on  religious  subjects  who  had  never  troubled 
themselves  about  such  matters  before.  Some  that  had  been 
accustomed  to  think  and  read  a  little  were  led  to  think  and 
read  more,  and  to  better  purpose.  Some  that  had  been 
helplessly  and  miserably  perplexed  had  their  minds  put 
right,  and  were  delivered  from  their  distresses.  Some  had 
their  minds  directed  more  seriously  to  the  practical  require- 
ments of  Christianity,  and  labored  more,  and  made  more 
sacrifices,  for  the  prosperity  of  the  Church  and  the  salvation 
of  their  fellow-men.  In  considerable  numbers  the  standard 
of  Christian  knowledge  and  piety  was  raised,  and  the  gen- 
eral tone  of  the  churches  improved. 

In  other  cases  the  results  were  of  a  very  different  char- 
acter. During  the  early  years  of  my  religious  life  I  sup- 
posed that  all  professing  Christians,  and  especially  all  min- 
isters of  the  Gospel,  were  anxious  to  be  as  wise  and  good  as 
possible,  and  that  they  would  be  delighted,  as  I  was  my- 
self, to  get  any  new,  or  larger,  or  clearer  views  of  truth  and 
duty.  I  judged  of  others  by  myself,  and  gave  them  credit 
for  the  same  desires  and  longings  that  swelled  my  own  soul. 
I  gave  them  credit  too  for  unlimited  caj)acities  to  take  in 
and  appreciate  the  truth,  and  for  any  amount  of  ability 
to  use  it,  when  received,  in  doing  good  to  others.  I  had 
seldom  any  difficulty  in  understanding  them  ;  and  it  never 
entered  my  mind  that  tlicy  would  have  niuch  difficulty  in 
understanding  me.  And  I  never  felt  myself  even  tempted, 
much  less  disposed,  to  misrepresent  the  words  or  sentiments 
of  my  friends,  or  to  take  advantage  of  the  freedom  with 
which  they  spoke,  to  injure  them  in  the  estimation  of  their 
friends.  I  had  no  intolerance  myself,  so  far  as  I  can  recol- 
lect, and  I  had  no  disposition  to  cause  intolerance  in  others 
towards  my  brethren.  How  it  was  with  my  brethren  I 
will  not  undertake  to  say,  but,  as  a  person  with  any  know- 
ledge of  human  nature  would  have  anticipated,  I  was  great- 
ly misunderstood  and  misrepresented.     Some  of  my  col- 


78  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

leagues  and  friends  were  in  a  maze  with  regard  to  my  views 
and  intentions.  Shut  up  within  the  narrow  confines  of 
some  old  stereotyped  form  of  faith  or  fancy  into  which  they 
had  been  born,  or  into  which  they  had  been  brought  they 
knew  not  how,  and  afraid  to  change  or  modify  one  iota  of 
tlieir  blind  belief,  investigation,  search  after  truth,  enlarge- 
ment of  thought,  or  change  of  sentiment,  was  with  them  out 
of  the  question.  The  very  idea  of  anything  differing  from 
their  own  traditionary  or  haphazard  belief  was,  in  the  esti- 
mation of  some  of  them,  no  less  than  heresy,  treason,  or 
infidelity.  Others,  who  were  not  so  much  benighted,  were 
afraid  to  venture  on  a  free  examination  of  religious  matters, 
or  a  careful  comparison  of  their  views  with  the  teachings  of 
Scripture.  Some  trusted  in  their  elders,  and  feared  no  er- 
ror so  long  as  they  kept  in  the  track  of  their  predecessors. 
I  am  not  certain  that  I  should  go  too  far  if  I  Mere  to  say, 
that  some  were  under  the  influence  of  worldly  and  selfish 
motives,  and  were  resolved  to  take  the  course  which  prom- 
ised to  be  most  conducive  to  a  quiet,  easy,  self-indulgent 
life.  There  were  some  whose  conversations  left  this  impres- 
sion on  my  inind.  One  young  minister,  when  I  was  point- 
ing out  to  him  some' inconsistency  between  a  statement  he 
had  made  and  the  teachings  of  Christ,  put  an  end  to  the 
conversation  by  saying,  "  1  don't  want  to  hear  anything 
about  such  matters  ;  I  know  what  is  expected  of  a  minister 
of  the  Methodist  New  Connexion,  and  I  am  resolved  to  be 
one;  and  I  sliall  just  hold  the  doctrines  necessary  to  keep 
me  in  the  office,  and  nothing  else."  And  I  suppose  he  did 
not  stand  alone. 

Some  lacked  the  power  to  think.  They  were  all  but 
mindless.  Whatever  tliey  might  be  able  to  do  in  reference 
to  worldly  matters,  they  were  unable  to  think,  to  compare 
doctrine  with  doctrine,  or  to  reason  in  any  resi>ect  whatever 
on  religious  matters.  One  young  man,  a  candidate  for  the 
ministry,  told  me  that  lie  never  had  thought  matters  over 
in  his  own  mind,  but  taken  what  came  in  his  way  in  books 
or  sermons,  never  troubling  liiniself,  or  finding  himself  able, 
to  do  more  than  to  remember  and  to  repeat  M'hat  he  heard 
or  read.  He  had  not  the  faculty  to  compare  the  sayings  of 
men  with  tlie  sayings  of  God ;  or  the  sayings  of  one  man 
with  the  sayings  of  another.     He  was  a   mere  dealer  in 


LABOR    IN   VAIN.  79 

words  and  phrases,  and  lie  aspired  to  'nothing  higher  than 
to  live  by  the  ignoble  occupation.  How  many  of  those  with 
whom  I  came  in  contact,  and  in  whose  society  I  poured 
forth  so  freely  the  thoughts  of  my  mind,  were  of  the  same 
stamp,  I  do  not  know.  I  never  tested  any  other  jierson  so 
thoroughly  as  I  tested  him.  There  were  others,  however, 
that  had  been  fashioned  in  a  similar  mould. 

Others  with  whom  I  conversed  had  thougld,  and  had  em- 
braced certain  views  believing  them  to  be  true ;  but  they 
had  fallen  under  the  influence  of  teachers  and  books  of  a 
different  cast  from  those  by  which  my  own  mind  had  been 
chiefly  influenced.  A  nd  they  had  been  led  to  fix  their  thoughts 
almost  exclusively  on  one  particular  class  of  Scri])ture 
passages,  and  to  neglect  or  overlook  other  portions  of  the 
sacred  volume,  though  much  more  numerous,  and  much 
more  clear  in  their  meaning.  They  had  also  been  led  to 
adopt  certain  interpretations  of  the  passages  on  which  their 
attention  had  been  s})ecially  fixed,  which. a  consideration  of 
other  passages  of  Scripture  had  led  me  to  reject.  Thus 
our  minds  had  run  into  different  moulds,  and  taken 
different  forms.  We  differed  not  only  on  certain  points  of 
doctrine,  but  in  our  tastes,  and  in  our  rules  of  judging. 
The  consequence  was,  that  we  could  never  talk  long  on 
religious  subjects  without  getting  into  a  dispute,  or  coming 
to  a  dead  stand.  To  make  matters  worse,  this  class  of 
people  had  been  led  to  believe  that  their  peculiar  notions 
were  the  essential  doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  and  that 
those  who  did  not  believe  them  could  not  be  Christians. 
When  therefore  they  found  that  I  looked  upon  their  theories 
as  erroneous  and  unscriptural,  they  pronounced  me  at  once 
an  erratic  and  dangerous  man.  I  imagined,  at  first,  that 
I  could  bring  these  people  to  see  things  in  a  different 
light.  I  had  such  faith  in  the  power  of  plain  Scri])ture 
passages,  and  in  the  force  of  common  sense,  and  was 
so  ignorant  of  the  poM^er  of  prejudice,  and  of  peculiarities 
of  mental  constitution,  that  I  conversed  and  reasoned 
with  them  with  the  greatest  freedom  and  the  utmost  con- 
fidence. But  I  found  at  length  that  my  expectations 
were  vain.  I  was  conversing  once  with  a  colleague 
who  belonged  to  this  class,  on  man's  natural  proneness  to 
evil.     He  was  one  of  the  best  and  most  enlightened  of  that 


80  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

school  of  theologians,  and  he  regarded  me  at  the  time  "with 
very  kindly  feelings.  And  we  were  agreed  as  to  the  fact 
of  man's  natural  tendency  to  evil,  but  he  had  been  led  to 
rest  his  belief  in  the  doctrine  on  somewhat  different  grounds 
from  those  on  which  my  belief  rested.  And  this  was 
enough.  He  quoted  the  passage  from  Isaiah,  "  The  whole 
head  is  sick,  and  the  whole  heart  faint :  from  the  crown  of 
the  head,  to  the  sole  of  the  foot,  there  is  no  soundness,  but 
wounds  and  bruises  and  putrefying  sores."  "  Do  you  think 
that  the  Prophet  refers  in  that  passage  to  man's  natural 
proneness  to  evil  ?  "  said  I.  "  "What  can  he  refer  to  else  ?  " 
said  he.  "  I  have  been  accustomed  to  regard  the  words  as 
a  figurative  description  of  the  miserable  state  of  the  Israelites 
under  the  terrible  judgments  of  God,"  I  replied.  He  instant- 
ly became  red  in  the  lace,  and  said,  "  Do  you  mean  to  deny 
the  natural  depravity  of  man  ?  "  I  said,  "  The  question  is 
not  about  the  doctrine,  but  only  about  the  meaning  of  that 
particular  passage."  But  all  was  in  vain.  I  had  roused 
his  suspicions  and  liis  anger,  and  tlie  conversation  came  at 
once  to  an  end,  and  he  never  afterwards  regarded  me  with 
the  same  degree  of  confidence  and  friendliness  as  before. 

On  another  occasion  a  brother  minister  quoted,  as  proof 
that  men  in  tlieir  unregenerate  state  cannot  do  anything 
towards  their  own  salvation,  the  words  of  Jeremiah,  al- 
ready once  referred  to,  "  Can  the  Ethiopian  change  his 
skin,  or  the  leopard  his  spots  ?  "  "  Do  you  really  think," 
said  I,  "  tliat  the  Prophet  is  speaking,  in  tliose  words,  of  men 
generally  ?  "  "  What  else  is  he  spealcing  of  ?  "  was  the  an- 
swer. "  He  seems  to  me  to  be  speaking  of  a  particular  class 
of  men,  who  have  been  so  long  accustomed  to  do  wrong, 
that  they  liave  lost  the  ]>ower  to  do  right — having  made 
themselves  the  helpless  slaves  of  their  evil  habits.  He  is 
not,  I  think,  speaking  of  the  state  into  which  they  were 
horn  ;  but  of  the  state  to  which  they  had  reduced  themselves 
by  long  persistence  in  sin.  Hence  he  says  at  the  conclusion 
of  the  passage,  '  Then  may  ye,  who  are  accustomed  to  do 
evil,  do  well.'"  "Oh  !  I  su[)])ose  you  deny  the  doctrine  of 
natural  de[)ravity."  "  No,  I  do  not,"  said  I.  "It  is  no  use 
saying  that,"  he  replied,  "  when  you  explain  away  the  pas- 
sages of    Scripture  in  which  the  doctrine  is  taught." 

Such  encounters  between  me  and  my  brethren  were  at 


BIGOTRY  AND   INTOLERANCE.  81 

one  time  by  no  means  uncommon.  They  took  place  at 
almost  every  meeting.  The  result  was  often  unpleasant. 
My  brethren  generally  did  not  like  to  be  disturbed  in  their 
notions,  or  in  their  way  of  talking.  But  few,  if  any  of 
them,  were  prepared  or  disposed  to  enter  on  the  investiga- 
tions necessary  to  enable  theni  to  ascertain  Avhat  was  the 
truth  on  the  points  on  which  we  were  accustomed  to  con- 
verse. Some  had  not  the  power  to  revise  their  creeds  and 
their  way  of  talking  and  preaching,  and  bring  them  into 
harmony  with  Scripture  and  common  sense.  And  people 
of  this  class  were  sure  to  look  on  all  who  did  not  see  things 
in  the  same  light  as  themselves,  as  dangerous  or  damnable 
heretics.  They,  of  course,  concluded  that  I  was  not  sound 
in  the  faith.  They  felt  that  I  was  a  troublesome,  and 
feared  that  I  was  a  lost  and  ruined  man.  The  remarks 
which  I  made  to  them,  they  repeated  to  their  friends ;  and 
as  they  seldom  succeeded  in  understanding  me  properly, 
their  reports  were  generally  incorrect.  In  some  cases  my 
statements  Avere  reported  with  important  additions,  and 
in  others  with  serious  alterations,  and  in  some  cases  their 
meaning  was  entirely  changed.  And  the  change  was  sel- 
dom to  my  advantage.  A  difference  of  expression  between 
me  and  my  brethren  Avas  mistaken  for  a  diifcreuce  of  be- 
lief;  and  the  disuse  of  an  unscriptural  word,  was  mistaken 
for  a  renunciation  of  a  Christian  doctrine.  A  dispute 
about  the  "eternal  sonship"  was  mistaken  for  a  dispute 
about  the  divinity  of  Christ,  and  a  difference  of  opinion 
about  the  meaning  of  a  passage  of  Scripture,  came  to  be 
reported  as  the  denial  of  Clirist's  authority.  In  one  case 
I  gave  it  as  my  judgment  that  there  were  really  righteous 
})eople  on  earth  when  Christ  came  into  the  v/orld,  and  that 
it  was  to  such  that  Christ  referred,  when  He  said.  He 
"came  not  to  call  the  righteous,  but  sinners  to  repent- 
ance." This  was  made  into  an  assertion  that  the  coming 
of  Christ  was  unnecessary.  Inability  to  accept  unauthor- 
ized definitions  and  unscriptural  theories  of  Scriptural 
doctrines,  was  construed  into  a  denial  of  those  doctrines. 
]\Iy  endeavor  to  strip  religious  subjects  of  needless  mys- 
tery, was  represented  as  an  attempt  to  substitute  a  vain 
philosophy  for  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  An  expression  of 
dissatisfaction  with  a  grandiloquent  but  foolish  and  mis- 
6 


82  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

chicvons  sermon  on  the  "  Cross  of  Christ,"  was  set  down 
as  a  proof  that  my  views  on  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  were 
not  evangelical.  My  endeavors  to  show  that  Christianity 
was  in  harmony  with  reason,  were  mistaken  for  an  attempt 
to  substitute  reason  for  faith,  and  became  the  occasion  of  a 
rumor  that  I  was  running  into  Pelagianism  or  Socinianism. 
]My  own  conviction  was,  that  I  was  coming  nearer  to  the 
simplicity,  the  purity,  and  the  fulness  of  the  Gospel ;  and 
that  is  my  conviction  still.  And  those  of  my  brethren  in 
the  ministry  who  were  in  advance  of  the  rest  in  point  of  in- 
telligence and  piety,  and  who  were  least  infected  M'ith  fool- 
ish fear  and  jealousy,  expressed  to  me  their  satisfaction  with 
my  views  and  proceedings.  And  the  people  listened  to  my 
discourses  with  the  greatest  delight.  They  flocked  to  hear 
me  in  crowds ;  and  the  crowds  continually  increased.  And 
many  were  benefited  under  my  ministry.  Sinners  were 
converted,  and  believers  were  comforted,  and  stimulated  to 
greater  efforts  in  the  cause  of  God. 

To  tliose,  however,  who  had  come  to  believe  that  I  was 
drifting  towards  heresy,  all  this  was  the  occasion  of  greater 
alarm,  and  my  great  success  and  growing  popularity  led 
them  to  make  increasing  efforts  to  lessen  my  influence,  or 
silence  me  altogether.  Their  conduct  caused  me  great  un- 
easiness, and  it  was  this  that  first  awakened  in  me  unhappy 
feeling  towards  them. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  SECOND  TENDENCY.      PRACTICAL  PREACHING. 

I  HAD  a  second  powerful  tendency  which  hel])ed  to  get 
me  into  trouble,  and  so  became  an  occasion  of  unhapjiy 
feeling,  namely,  a  practical  tendency.  This  was  bred  in  me. 
It  was  a  family  peculiarity ;  it  ran  in  the  blood.  My  father 
had  it.  Religion  with  him  was  goodness  of  heart  and  good- 
ness of  life  ;  fearing  God  and  working  righteousness  ;  loving 
God  and  keeping  His  connnandments.  And  his  belief 
and  life  were  one.  I  never  knew  a  more  conscientious  or 
godly  man.  And  I  never  knew  a  man  who  could  more 
truly  have  uttered  the  words  of  the  Psalmist :  "  Lord,  my 


PRACTICAL  PREACHING.      MY   FATHER.  83 

heart  is  not  haughty,  nor  mine  eyes  lofty  ;*>.neither  do  I  ex- 
ercise myself  in  great  matters,  or  in  things  too  high  for  me. 
Surely  I  have  behaved  and  quieted  myself  as  a  child  that 
is  weaned  of  its  mother ;  my  soul  is  even  as  a  weaned 
child."     What   God   had  left   mysterious,  he  was  willing 
should  remain  so ;  he  found  sufficient  to  meet  his  wants 
and  to  occupy  his  thoughts  in  what   Pie  had  clearly  re- 
vealed. He  never  troubled  either  himself  or  his  children 
with  those  incomprehensible  subjects  on  which  many  people 
are  so  prone  to  speculate  and  dogmatize.     He  read  but  lew 
books,  and  those  which  he  read  he  carefully  compared  with 
the  sacred  Scriptures.     The  Bible  w-as  his  only  authority, 
and  by  it  he  tested  both  books  and  preachers,  receiving  no- 
tliing  but  what  he  saw  and  felt  to  be  in  harmony  witli  its 
spirit  and  teachings.     He  liked  Bunyan,  especially  his  Pil- 
grim's Progress;  and  he  liked  Wesley;  but  he  liked   the 
Bible  best.       There  were  no  bounds  to  his  love  and  rever- 
ence for  the  Scriptures.    He  regarded  tliem  as  the  perfection 
of  all  wisdom,  the  true  and  perfect  unfolding  of  the  mind 
and  will  of  God.      He  read  them  every  morning  on  his 
knees,  before  the  rest  of  the  flimily  were  \\\^.     NVHiatever 
might  be  the  calls  of  business,  he  spent  a  full  hour  in  this 
exercise.      He  read  them  every  noon  to  his  family.     He 
read  them  at  night  before  retiring  to  rest.      He  read  them 
with  a  sincere  desire  to  learn  God's  will,  and  wdth  earnest 
prayer  for  Divine  help  to  enable  him  to  do  it.     He  read 
them  till  all  the  plainer  and  more  practical  portions  were 
safely  lodged  in  his  memory,  and  deeply  engraven  on  his 
heart.     He   read  them  till  their  teachings  became  a  part 
of  his  very  nature,  and  shone  forth  in  his  character  in  all 
the  beauty  of  holiness.     He  was    a    thorough    Christian. 
The  oracles  of  God  were  the  rule  both  of  his  faith  and  con- 
duct.    They  leavened  his  whole  soul.     Thev  mingled  with 
all  his  conversation.     They  were  his  only  counsellors  and 
his  chief  comforters.      They  -were  his  law,  his  politics,  his 
philosophy,  his  morals.     They  were  his  treasure  and  his 
song.       And  he  received  their  teachings  in  their  simple, 
obvious,  common-sense  meaning.     He  had  quite  a  distaste 
for  commentaries,  because  they  would  not  allow  the  Scrip- 
tures  to  speak  forth  their  own  solemn  meaning  in  their 
own  plain,  artless  way.     He  hated  the  notes  toBunyan's 


84  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

Pilgrim's  Progress  for  the  same  reason.  He  could  under- 
stand the  Bible,  but  he  could  not  understand  the  explanations 
of  it  given  by  theologians.  He  would  not  study  theology. 
He  would  study  the  Bible  and  Christ ;  he  would  study 
jjrecepts  and  promises,  exhortations  and  warnings,  examples 
and  histories ;  but  not  theology.  And  he  never  bothered 
us  with  theology.  There  was  no  theology  in  his  conver- 
sation. There  was  noue  in  his  prayers.  He  never  used 
theological  terms.  In  all  he  said  on  religious  matters, 
whether  to  God  or  man,  he  used  the  simplest  Bible  terms. 
He  seldom  talked  much  to  his  children  about  religion ; 
he  taught  us  more  by  his  deeds  and  spirit  than  by  words  ; 
but  when  he  did  say  anything  to  us  on  the  subject,  it  was 
the  pure,  unadulterated  Word  of  God.  The  idea  of  ma- 
king us  theologians,  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word, 
never  entered  into  his  head.  He  wished  us  to  think  and 
feel  and  act  like  Christians,  and  that  was  all ;  and  the  end 
of  all  his  counsels  and  labors  was  to  furnish  us  unto  every 
good  word  and  work.  If  he  had  written  a  system  of  di- 
vinity, he  would  have  left  out  most  of  the  things  which 
many  put  into  such  books,  and  put  in  many  which  most 
leave  out.  It  would  have  been  a  book  to  help  people  to 
live  right  and  feel  right,  and  not  to  dream,  or  speculate,  or 
wrangle.  If  he  had  been  a  preacher,  lie  would  have  filled 
his  sermons  with  the  living  words  of  Moses  and  the  Proph- 
ets, of  Christ 'and  His  Apostles,  and  pressed  them  on  the 
consciences  of  his  hearers  with  all  his  might.  He  would 
often  have  "  reasoned  of  righteousness,  temperance,  and  a 
judgment  to  come,"  but  never  troubled  his  hearers  with 
human  theories  of  Christian  doctrines.  The  drift  and 
scope  of  his  sermons  to  the  ungodly  would  have  been, 
"  Cease  to  do  evil  ;  learn  to  do  well."  "  Ijct  the  wicked 
forsake  his  way,  and  the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts,  and 
let  him  return'unto  the  Lord,  and  He  v/ill  have  mercy  upon 
liim  ;  and  to  our  God,  for  He  will  abundantly  pardon." 
"  Repent  and  be  converted,  every  one  of  you,  that  your 
sins  may  be  blottal  out."  The  substance  of  his  sermons  to 
believers  would  have  been,  "  I  beseech  you  therefore,  breth- 
ren, by  the  mercies  of  God,  that  ye  present  your  bodies  a 
living  sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  unto  God,  which  is  your 
reasonable  service."     "  Ye  are  not  your  own ;  ye  are  bought 


THE   DESIGN   OF   CHRISTIANITY.  85 

with  a  price ;  therefore  glorify  God  with^our  bodies  and 
your  spirits,  which  are  His."  "  For  ye  were  not  redeemed 
witli  corruptible  things,  such  as  silver  and  gold,  from  your 
evil  way  of  life  received  by  tradition  from  your  fathers  ; 
but  with  the  precious  blood  of  Christ  ;  who  gave  Himself 
for  you,  that  He  might  redeem  you  from  all  iniquity,  and 
purify  you  unto  Himself  a  peculiar  people,  zealous  of  good 
works."  "  Bo  not  deceived ;  God  i^  not  mocked  ;  for  what- 
soever a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap.  For  he  that 
soweth  to  the  flesh,  shall  of  the  flesh  reap  corruption  ;  but 
he  that  soweth  to  the  Spirit,  shall  of  the  Sj^irit  reap  life 
everlasting.  And  let  us  not  be  weary  in  well-doing ;  for 
in  due  season  we  shall  reap,  if  we  faint  not.  As  we  have 
therefore  opportunity,  let  us  do  good  unto  all  men,  espe- 
cially to  those  who  are  of  the  household  of  faith."  He 
would  have  spoken  of  tlie  love  of  God,  and  of  the  death 
of  Christ,  and  of  all  the  great  moving  facts  and  doctrines 
of  the  Gospel ;  but,  like  the  sacred  writers,  he  would  have 
turned  them  all  to  practical  account.  His  aim  in  every- 
thing would  have  been  to  bring  men  into  subjection  to  God's 
will,  and  into  full  conformity  with  the  teachings  and  char- 
acter of  Christ. 

My  eldest  brother  was  a  minister,  and  this  was  the  char- 
acter of  his  preaching.  His  favorite  books  were  Baxter's 
works  and  the  Bible.  His  favorite  minister  was  William 
Dawson,  one  of  the  most  practical,  earnest,  and  common- 
sense  preachers  that  ever  occupied  a  pulpit.  Like  his 
father,  he  kept  scrupulously  to  the  simple  teachings  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  he  was  once  charged  with  unsoundness  in 
the  faith,  because  he  would  not  be  wise  above  what  was 
revealed,  nor  preach  more  than  the  Gospel  committed  to 
him  by  Christ. 

It  was  the  same  Avith  myself.  I  looked  on  Christianity, 
from  the  first,  as  a  means  of  enlightening  and  regenerating 
mankind,  and  changing  them  into  the  likeness  of  Christ 
and  of  God.  In  other  words,  I  regarded  it  as  a  grand 
instrument  appointed  by  God,  for  making  bad  men  into 
good  men,  and  good  men  always  better,  thus  fitting  them 
for  all  the  duties  of  life,  and  all  the  blessedness  they  were 
created  to  enjoy.  And  I  considered  that  the  great  busi- 
ness of  a  Christian  minister  was  to  use  it  for  those  great 
ends.     And  I  think  so  still. 


86  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

The  Bible  is  the  most  practical  book  under  heaven,  and  I 
cannot  conceive  how  any  one  can  read  it  carefully,  with 
a  mind  unbiased  by  prejudice  or  evil  feeling,  without 
perceiving  that  its  great  object  is  to  bring  men  to  fear 
and  love  God,  and  to  make  them  perfect  in  every  good 
work  to  do  His  will.  How  any  one  can  study  Chris- 
tianity without  perceiving  that  its  design  is  to  bring  men 
into  harmony  with  God,  both  in  heart  and  action,  and  to 
make  them  steadfast,  unmovable,  always  abounding  in  the 
work  of  the  Lord,  is  a  mystery  to  me.  Antinomianism  is 
Antichrist.  The  jireaching  which  tends  to  lessen  men's 
sense  of  duty,  or  to  reconcile  people  to  a  selfish,  idle,  or 
useless  life,  is  contrary  both  to  Christianity  and  common 
sense.  And  all  interpretations  of  Scripture  which  favor 
the  doctrine  that  men  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  believe 
and  trust  in  Christ,  are  madness  or  impiety.  The  impres- 
sion which  God  seeks  to  make  on  our  minds  from  the  be- 
ginning of  Genesis  to  the  end  of  Revelation  is,  that  if 
we  would  have  His  favor  and  blessing,  we  must  do  His 
will.  The  whole  Bible  is  one  great  lesson  of  piety  and 
virtue,  of  love  and  beneficence.  Christ  is  "  the  Author  of 
eternal  salvation  to  those  "  only  "  who  obey  Him."  Those 
who  obey  Him  not  He  will  punish  with  everlasting  de- 
struction. Christ  and  His  Apostles  agree  that,  if  we  would 
see  God  and  have  eternal  life,  we  must  be  "  lioly  as  God 
is  holy,"  "  merciful  as  our  Father  in  heaven  is  merciful, " 
"  righteous  as  Christ  was  righteous ;" — that  God,  who  is 
love,  and  Christ,  who  is  God,  must  dwell  in  us,  live  in  us, 
work  in  us ; — that  carnal,  sinful  self  must  die,  and  "  grace 
reign  in  us  through  righteousness  unto  eternal  life." 

I  know  what  can  be  said  about  doctrines  ;  but  there  are 
no  doctrines  in  the  Scriptures  at  variance  with  the  princi- 
ple that  "  God  will  render  to  every  man  according  to  his 
deeds, — that  to  tlicm  who  by  patient  continuance  in  well- 
doing seek  for  glory,  honor,  and  immortality.  Pic  will  give 
eternal  life  ;  and  that  to  them  who  are  contentious,  and  do 
not  obey  the  truth,  but  obey  unrighteousness.  He  will  recom- 
pense 'indignation  and  wrath,  tribulation  and  anguisli." 
Nay,  the  doctrines  of  Scrii)ture  are  employed  throughout 
as  motives  and  inducements  to  righteousness.  This  is  their 
use.  The  truth  is  tnnglit  us  that  it  may  malcc  us  free 
fro;n  sin,  and  sanctify  both  our  hearts  and    lives  to  God. 


MY   TEXTS   AND   SUBJECTS    PRACTICAL.  87 

The  "Word  of  God,  the  doctrine  of  Chriai,  is  sown  in  our 
hearts  as  seed  in  the  ground,  tliat  it  may  bring  forth  in  our 
lives  "  the  fruits  of  righteousness."  The  office  of  faith  in 
Clirist  and  His  doctrine  is,  to  "  work  by  love,"  to  make  us 
"  new  creatures,"  and  so  bring  us  to  keep  God's  command- 
ments. The  blindest  man  on  earth  is  not  more  blind  than 
the  man  who  can  read  the  Scriptures  without  perceiving 
tliat  their  object  is  to  make  men  "  perfect,  thoroughly 
furnished  unto  all  good  works." 

As  I  had  never  been  placed  for  instruction  under  any 
Antinomian  theologian,  and  had  never  been  taught  at 
home,  either  by  word  or  deed,  to  wrest  the  Scriptures  from 
their  plain  and  simple  meaning,  I  naturally  became  a 
thoroughly  practical  preacher.  I  took  ]>ractical  texts  :  I 
preached  practical  sermons.  The  first  text  from  which  I 
preached  was,  "  Say  ye  to  the  righteous,  it  shall  be  well 
with  them,  for  they  shall  eat  the  fruit  of  their  doings.  Wo 
unto  the  wicked,  it  shall  be  ill  with  him  ;  for  the  reward 
of  his  hands  shall  be  given  him."  The  second  was,  "  Blessed 
are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God."  The  third 
was,  "  Ye  are  not  your  own ;  ye  are  bouglit  Avith  a  price  ; 
therefore  glorify  God  with  your  bodies  and  spirits,  which 
are  God's."  Azid  the  fourth  was,  "  These  shall  go  away 
into  everlasting  punishment;  but  the  righteous  into  life 
eternal."  The  following  were  among  my  principal  texts 
and  subjects  for  many  years  :  "  Occupy  till  I  come."  "Let 
your  light  so  sliine  before  men,  that  they  may  see  your 
good  works,  and  glorify  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven." 
"  Herein  is  my  Father  glorified,  tliat  ye  bear  much  fruit." 
"  He  that  showeth  mercy  with  cheerfulness."  "  Be  ye 
therefore  merciful,  as  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  is 
merciful."  "  Pie  that  winneth  souls  is  wise."  "  Train  up' 
a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go,  and  when  he  is  old  he 
will  not  depart  from  it."  The  Good  Samaritan.  The 
Prodigal  Son.  The  Barren  Fig-tree.  The  Hatefulness 
and  Wickedness  of  Lukewarmness.  The  Woman  that  did 
what  she  could.  The  Christian's  Race.  The  Good  Stew- 
ard. The  duty  of  Christians  to  strive  with  one  heart  and 
one  mind  for  the  faith  of  the  Gospel.  The  example  of 
Christ.  "  Give  no  occasion  to  the  adversary  to  preach  re- 
proachfully."     "And  now  abideth  faith,  hope,  charity, 


88  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

these  three ;  but  the  greatest  of  these  is  charity."  "There- 
fore, my  beloved  brethren,  be  ye  steadfast,  unmovable, 
always  abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord,  forasmuch  as 
ye  know  that  your  labor  is  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord."  "  For 
I  am  not  ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ :  for  it  is  the 
power  of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  believeth  :  to 
the  Jew  first,  and  also  to  the  Greek."  "  I  must  work  the 
works  of  Him  that  sent  me,  while  it  is  day  :  the  night 
Cometh,  when  no  man  can  work."  "  For  ye  know  the 
grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that,  though  He  was  rich, 
yet  for  your  sakes  He  became  poor,  that  ye  through  His 
poverty  might  be  rich."  "  As  we  have  therefore  oppor- 
timity,  let  us  do  good  unto  all  men,  especially  unto  them 
who  are  of  the  household  of  faith."  "  Be  not  deceived ; 
God  is  not  mocked :  for  whatsoever  a  man  soweth  that 
shall  he  also  reap.  For  he  that  soweth  to  his  flesh  shall  of 
the  flesh  reap  corruption ;  but  he  that  soweth  to  the  Spirit 
shall  of  the  Spirit  reap  life  everlasting."  "  Brethren,  if  a 
man  be  overtaken  in  a  fault,  ye  which  are  spiritual  restore 
such  an  one,  in  the  spirit  of  meekness ;  considering  thyself 
lest  thou  also  be  tempted."  "  And  let  us  not  be  weary  in 
well  doing :  for  in  due  season  we  shall  reap,  if  we  faint 
not."  "  Feed  My  sheep."  "  Feed  My  lambs."  "  Bear  ye 
one  another's  burdens,  and  so  fulfil  the  law  of  Christ." 
"  Remember  the  poor."  "  Freely  ye  have  received  ;  freely 
give."  "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive."  I 
had  quite  a  multitude  of  such  subjects. 

I  did  not  however  confine  myself  to  these.  I  did  my 
best  to  declare  the  whole  counsel  of  God.  I  kept  back 
nothing  that  seemed  likely  to  be  useful  to  my  hearers.  I 
spoke  on  the  love  of  God, — on  the  condescension  of  Christ, 
— of  His  unparalleled  love  in  giving  Himself  a  sacrifice 
for  our  salvation.  I  spoke  of  His  sufferings  and  death, — 
of  His  resurrection  and  mediation, — of  His  sympathy  with 
our  sorrows, — of  His  coming  to  judgment.  I  spoke  of  the 
miseries  of  sin, — of  the  pleasures  of  religion, — of  the  joys 
of  heaven, — of  the  pains  of  hell, — of  providence,  and  of 
trust  in  God.  In  short,  I  preached  on  every  great  doctrine 
of  revelation  as  I  had  opportunity.  I  revered  all  God's 
truth,  and  I  preached  on  every  part  of  it  with  fidelity.  But 
I  treated  everything  in  a  practical  way.     I  used  every  sub- 


MY   FAVORITE   AUTHORS.  89 

ject  as  a  means  or  motive  to  holiness  and  usefulness.  And 
this,  I  believe,  was  right.  The  Apostles  did  so, — Christ 
did  so, — and  they  are  the  Christian  minister's  examples. 

I  had  a  partiality  for  practical  books.  As  I  have  already 
said,  among  my  favorite  English  authors ^yere  Hooker,  and 
Baxter,  and  Barrow,  and  Howe,  and  Jeremy  Taylor,  and 
Peun,  and  Tillotson,  and  Law.  Baxter  stood  first,  and 
my  favorite  books  were  his  Christian  Directory,  his  Life  of 
Faith,  his  Cnteijixion  of  the  World  by  the  Cross  of  Christ, 
and  his  DireGtions  for  Settled  Peace  of  Conscience.  But,  in 
truth,  it  is  hard  to  say  which  of  his  works  I  did  not  regard 
as  favorites.  I  liked  his  Catholic  Theology,  his  Aphorisms 
on  Justification,  his  Confessions,  and  even  his  Latin  Metho- 
diis  TheologicB.  I  read  him  everlastingly.  I  read  Law 
and  Barrow  too,  till  I  almost  knew  many  of  their  works 
bv  heart.  I  studied  Penn  from  beginning  to  end.  And  I 
never  got  tired  of  reading  Hooker.  I  regarded  his  Eccle- 
siastical Polity  as  one  of  the  richest,  sweetest,  wisest,  saint- 
liest  books  under  heaven. 

My  favorite  French  authors  were  Massillon,  Fenelon, 
Flechier,  Bourdaloue  and  Saurin,  all  practical  preachers. 
Massillon  moved  me  most.  I  have  read  him  now  at  inter- 
vals for  more  than  forty  years,  and  I  read  him  still  with 
undiminished  profit  and  delight.  He  is  the  greatest  of  all 
preachers ;  the  most  eloquent,  the  most  powerful ;  and  his 
works  abound  with  the  grandest,  the  profoundest,  the  most 
impressive  and  overpowering  views  of  truth  and  duty. 

Among  the  Fathers  I  liked  Lactantius  and  Chrysostom 
best,  not  only  for  the  superiority  of  their  style,  but  for  the 
common  sense  and  practical  character  of  their  sentiments. 

My  favorite  Methodist  author,  when  I  first  began  my 
Ciiristian  career,  was  Benson.  His  sermons  were  full  of 
fervor  ^  and  power.  I  felt  less  interest  in  Wesley  at  first. 
I  was  incapable  of  duly  appreciating  his  works.  As  I  grew 
older,  and  got  more  sense,  my  estimate  both  of  his  charac- 
ter and  writings  rose,  and  now  I  like  him  better,  and  esteem 
him  more  highly,  than  at  any  former  period  of  my  life. 
And  I  like  his  latest  writings  best. 

^  I  liked  Fletcher  very  much,  partly  on  account  of  the  good, 
kind  Christian  feeling  that  pervaded  his  writings,  and 
partly  on  account  of  his  able  and  unanswerable  defence  of 


90  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

the  enlightened  and  scriptural  views  of  Wesley,  as  set  forth 
in  the  Minutes  of  1771. 

Among  the  later  Dissenting  writers,  Robert  Hall  was 
my  favorite.  I  liked  many  tlungs  in  the  writings  of  John 
Angell  James  ;  but  there  were  other  things,  especially  in  his 
Anxious  Inquirer,  that  appeared  to  savor  more  of  mysticism 
than  of  Christianity,  and  that  seemed  better  calculated  to 
perplex  and  embarrass  young  disciples  of  Christ,  than  to 
afford  them  guidance  and  comfort. 

There  were  many  other  good  authors  whom  I  read  and 
prized,  but  most  of  the  above  I  read  till  their  thoughts  and 
feelings  became,  to  a  great  extent,  my  own ;  and  the  effect 
of  all  was  to  strengthen  the  already  strong  practical  ten- 
dency of  my  mind. 

But  no  book  did  so  much  to  make  me  a  practical  preach- 
er as  the  Bible.  It  is  practical  throughout — intensely  prac- 
tical, and  nothing  else  but  practical.  The  moment  it  in- 
troduces man  to  our  notice,  it  presents  him  as  subject  to  God's 
law,  and  represents  his  life  and  blessedness  as  depending 
entirely  on  his  obedience.  God  is  presented  from  the  first 
as  an  avenger  of  sin,  and  as  a  rewarder  of  them  that  diligent- 
ly seek  Him.  In  His  address  to  Cain  He  sets  forth  the 
whole  principle  of  His  government:  'If  thou  doest  well, 
shalt  thou  not  be  accepted  ?  But  if  thou  doest  not  well, 
sin  lieth  at  the  door.'  Enoch  is  translated  because  he  walked 
Vv^itli  God.  The  world  is  destroyed  because  of  its  wick- 
edness, and  Noah  is  saved  because  of  his  righteousness. 
Al)raliara  is  blessed  because  he  observes  the  statutes  and 
judgments  of  God,  and  because  he  is  ready  to  make  the 
greatest  sacrifices  out  of  respect  to  His  commands.  The  sum 
of  the  whole  revelation  given  to  the  Jews  is,  "  Behold  I  set 
before  you  life  and  death,  a  blessing  and  a  curse.  Obey, 
and  all  conceivable  blessings  shall  be  your  portion  :  disobey, 
and  all  imaginable  curses  shall  fall  on  you."  The  history 
of  the  Jews  is  an  everlasting  story  of  obedience  and  })ros- 
perity,  of  disobedience  and  adversity.  The  history  of  indi- 
viduals is  the  same.  The  just  live;  the  wicked  die.  The 
good  are  honored  ;  the  bad  are  ])ut  to  shame.  The  Psalms, 
the  Proverbs,  and  the  Prophets  are  all  lessons  of  right- 
eousness. Righteousness  exalteth  nations ;  sin  brings  them 
down  to  destruction.     And  Jesus  and  Paul,  and  Peter  and 


THE   BIBLE   THE   BEST.  91 

James,  and  Jude  and  John,  have  all  one  aim,  to  bless  men 
by  turning  them  away  from  their  iniquities,  and  by  urging 
them  to  perpetual  advancement  in  hoi  mess.  All  the  histo- 
ries, all  the  biographies,  all  the  prophecies,  all  the  parables, 
all  the  preaching,  all  the  praying,  all  the  \\^uting,  all  the  rea- 
soning, all  the  things  the  Book  contains,  have  just  one  object, 
to  make  men  good,  and  urge  them  to  grow  continually  better. 
All  the  doctrines  are  practical,  and  are  used  as  motives  to 
purity,  love  and  beneficence.  All  the  promises  are  given 
to  support  and  cheer  people  in  the  faithful  discharge  of 
their  duty.  All  the  warnings  are  to  keep  men  from  idle- 
ness, selfishness  and  sin.  The  Church  and  all  its  minis- 
tries ;  the  Scriptures  and  all  their  revelations  ;  Providence 
and  all  its  dispensations ;  nature  and  all  her  operations,  are 
all  presented  as  means  and  motives  to  a  life  of  holy  love 
and  usefulness.  The  Bible  has  nothing,  is  nothing,  but 
laws  and  lessons,  aiming  at  the  illumination,  the  sanctifica- 
tion,  the  moral  and  spiritual  perfection  of  mankind. 

Idleness  and  selfishness  are  the  greatest  of  all  heresies, 
and  love  and  beneficence  the  perfection  of  all  religion.  Ko 
doctrine  can  be  falser  or  more  anti-christian  than  the  doc- 
trine that  a  man  may  sow  one  thing  and  reap  another;  that 
he  may  sow  tares  and  reap  wdieat ;  or  sow  cockle  and  reap 
barley — that  he  can  grow  thistles  and  reap  figs,  or  ])lant 
thorns  and  gather  grapes.  '  He  that  doeth  good  is  of  God ;' 
'  he  that  committeth  sin  is  of  the  devil.'  '  By  this  we  know 
that  we  have  passed  fi'om  death  unto  life,  because  we  love 
the  brethren.'  '  By  this  shall  all  men  know  that  ye  are  my 
disciples,  if  ye  have  love  one  to  another.'  '  Ye  know  that 
every  one  that  doeth  righteousness,  or  lives  to  do  good,  is  born 
of  God.'  'By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them.'  Good  trees 
will  bring  forth  good  fruit,  bad  trees  will  bring  forth  bad 
fruit.  '  Every  tree  that  bringeth  not  forth  good  fruit 
shall  be  hewn  down  and  cast  into  the  fire.' 

But  to  give  all  the  practical  passages  the  Bible  con- 
tains you  must  quote  the  substance,  the  soul,  the  bulk  of 
the  whole  Book.  It  is  all  of  a  piece.  It  has  one  aim  and 
one  tendency  from  beginning  to  end,  to  kill  sin  and  foster 
righteousness,  to  crush  selfishness  and  develop  philanthropy. 
It  consists  of  a  multitude  of  parts,  written  in  different  ages, 
by  a  great  variety  of  authoi's,  in  a  great  variety  of  styles, 


92  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

but  it  has  one  spirit,  the  spir.it  of  truth  and  righteousness. 
And  the  last  oracles  it  contains  are  like  the  first:  'Blessed 
are  the  dead  that  die  in  the  Lord ;  they  rest  from  their  la- 
bors, and  their  works  follow  them.'  '  Blessed  are  they  that 
do  His  commandments,  that  they  may  have  a  right  to  the 
tree  of  life,  and  enter  in  through  the  gates  into  the  city.' 

Under  the  influence  of  this  most  rational,  common-sense, 
practical  Book,  what  could  I  do  but  become  a  thoroughly 
practical  preacher  ?  What  could  I  do  but  drink  in  its  bless- 
ed, god-like  lessons,  and  make  it  the  great  business  of  my 
life  to  teach  them  and  preach  them  to  my  heai-ers,  and  urge 
them  on  their  consciences  as  the  governing  principles  of 
their  hearts  and  lives? 

The  book  of  nature  preaches  the  same  practical  Gospel 
as  the  Bible.  There  is  not  a  creature  on  earth  that  is  not 
required  to  work.  Birds,  beasts  and  insects  must  all  labor, 
or  die.  The  birds  must  build  their  nests,  and  gather 
supplies  of  food  for  themselves  and  their  young,  or  they 
would  all  perish.  The  cattle  must  graze,  or  browse,  or  bur- 
row, or  dive,  or  lack  their  needed  supplies  of  food.  The 
beaver  must  build  its  dam,  and  the  wolf  must  dig  its  hole, 
and  both  must  labor  for  their  daily  food.  The  bee  must 
gather  her  wax,  and  build  her  cell,  and  fetch  home  her 
honey,  or  starve.  The  ant  must  Imild  her  palace  and  look  out 
for  food  both  for  herself  and  her  family.  The  spider  nuist 
spin  her  thread,  and  weave  her  web,  and  watch  all  day  for 
her  prey.  All  seek  their  food  from  God,  and  obtain  it  at 
his  hands  as  the  reward  of  their  industry. 

Every  organ  in  man's  body  has  to  work,  (n-  the  body,  with 
all  its  organs,  would  die.  The  lungs  must  be  continually 
breathing,  and  the  heart  incessantly  beating,  and  the  blood 
perpetually  running  its  mysterious  round,  or  the  whole 
frame  would  perish.  And  the  hands  must  work,  and  the  feet 
must  walk,  and  the  eyes  must  look,  and  the  ears  must  lis- 
ten, and  the  tongue  must  talk.  And  the  jaws  must  grind  our 
food,  and  the  stomacli  digest  it,  and  the  liver  and  the  si)leen, 
and  the  brain  and  the  bowels,  and  the  nerves  and  the  glands 
must  all  co-operate,  or  we  hasten  to  the  dust. 

And  so  it  is  through  every  department  of  nature.  All 
things  are  full  of  labor.  The  vegetable  world  serves  the  ani- 
mal world,  and  the  animal  world  serves  the  vegetable  world, 


MY   FAVORITE   PREACHERS.  do 

and  the  mineral  and  meteorological  worlds  serve  them  both. 
And  the  branches  of  the  tree  shed  their  leaves  to  feed  the 
roots,  and  the  roots  collect  moisture  and  nutriment  from  the 
soil  to  feed  the  branches  and  the  leaves.  And  the  clouds 
let  fall  their  showers,  and  the  sun  sheds  <iOwn  his  warmth 
and  light,  and  the  more  mysterious  powers  of  nature  exert 
their  secret  influences,  and  all  things  are  thus  kept  right. 
And  the  winds  keep  ever  in  motion,  bearing  away  the  sur- 
plus cold  of  one  region  to  temper  the  excessive  heat  of 
another,  and  carrying  back  the  surplus  heat  of  the  warmer 
climes,  to  soften  the  rigors  of  the  colder  ones.  And  so 
throughout  the  universe.  There  is  not  an  idle  orb  in  the 
whole  heavens,  nor  is  there  an  idle  atom  on  earth.  The 
sun  the  moon  and  the  stars  are  in  eternal  motion,  and  are 
evermore  exerting  their  wondrous  influences  for  the  good  of 
the  whole  universe.  And  the  streams  are  ever  flowing, 
and  the  sea  is  ever  toiling.  Tlie  great  things  and  the  small, 
the  seen  and  the  unseen,  the  conscious  and  the  unconscious, 
are  all  at  work,  helping  themselves,.and  serving  each  other, 
and  contributing  with  one  consent  to  the  welfare  of  the 
great  mysterious  whole.  Nature's  laws  are  so  framed  that 
idleness  is  everywhere  punished,  and  lionest  industry  every- 
where rewarded.  ■  Everywhere  obedience  is  life,  and  dis- 
obedience death.  Salvation  by  works  is  the  principle  of 
the  Divine  Government  throughout  the  universe,  among  all 
the  creatures  of  God. 

My  favorite  preachers  were  William  Dawson,  David 
Stoner  and  James  Parsons,  all  eloquent  and  earnest  men, 
and  all  decidedly  practical.  I  never  missed  an  opportunity 
of  hearing  them  if  they  came  witliin  five  or  six  miles  of  the 
place  where  I  lived.  And  many  of  their  sermons  which  I 
heard  more  than  forty  years  ago  are  still  fresh  in  my  me- 
mory, and  continue  to  exert  a  happy  influence  on  my  heart. 

William  Dawson  was  a  local  preacher,  a  farmer.  He 
was  a  large,  broad-chested,  big-headed,  strong  built  man, — 
one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  a  well-made,  thoroughly  de- 
veloped Englishman  I  ever  saw.  And  he  was  full  of  life. 
There  was  not  a  sluggish  atom  in  his  whole  body,  nor  a 
slow-going  faculty  in  his  whole  soul.  He  had  eyes  like 
fire ;  and  his  face  was  the  most  expressive  I  ever  looked 
upon.     And  his  voice  was  loud  as  the  fall  of  mighty  waters. 


94  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

And  it  was  wonderfully  flexible,  and  full  of  music.  And 
he  always  spoke  in  natural  tones.  There  was  nothing  like 
cant  or  monotony  in  his  utterance.^  Yet  he  would  raise 
his  voice  to  such  a  pitch  at  times  that  you  could  hear  him 
half  a  mile  away.  He  was  the  most  perfect  actor  I  ever 
saw,  because  he  was  not  an  actor  at  all,  })ut  awful,  absolute 
reality.  And  he  was  a  man  of  wonderful  intelligence  and 
good  sense.  And  he  was  well  read.  His  mind  was  full  to 
overflowing  of  the  soundest  religions  knowledge.  And  his 
good  sound  sense  had  no  perceptible  admixture  of  nonsense. 
Every  sentence  answered  to  your  best  ideas  of  the  right, 
the  true,  the  holy,  the  divine.  His  grammar,  his  logic, 
and  his  rhetoric  were  perfect,  and  all  nature  seemed  to 
stand  by  to  supply  him  with  apt,  and  striking,  and  touch- 
ing illustrations.  And  his  soul  was  full  of  feeling.  He 
seemed  to  sympathize  with  every  form  of  humanity,  from 
the  helpless  babe  to  tottering  age,  and  to  be  one  with  them 
in  all  their  joys  and  sorrows,  and  in  all  their  hopes  and 
fears.  And  now  he  wguld  cry  with  the  crying  child,  and 
then  he  would  wail  with  the  afflicted  mother.  All  tliat  is 
great,  all  that  is  tender,  all  that  is  terrible, — all  nature, 
with  all  that  is  human,  and  much  that  was  divine,  seemed 
incarnated  in  him.  He  was  the  most  wonderful  embodi- 
ment of  all  that  goes  to  make  a  great,  a  mighty,  a  complete 
man,  and  a  good,  an  able,  and  an  all-powerful  preacher,  it 
ever  was  my  privilege  to  see.  As  a  matter  of  course,  his 
prayers,  his  sermons,  and  his  public  s])eeches  were  irresis- 
tible. Sinners  trembled,  and  fell  on  their  knees  praying 
and  howling.  Saints  shouted,  and  lost  themselves  in  trans- 
ports. His  congregations  were  always  crowded,  and  the 
dense,  mixed  masses  of  men  and  women,  good  and  evil, 
old  and  young,  all  were  moved  })y  him  like  the  sea  by  a 
strong  wind.  All  understood  him  :  all  felt  him  ;  and  all 
were  awed  and  bowed  as  by  the  power  of  God.  His  ser- 
mons were  always  practical.  Whether  lie  spake  to  the 
saint  or  the  sinner,  he  went  directly  to  the  conscience. 
And  all  that  he  said  you  saw.  Sin  stared  you  full  in  the  face 
and  looked  unspeakably  sinful  ;  it  rose  and  stood  before 
you  a  monster  group  of  all  imaginable  horrors  and  abomi- 
nations. The  sinner  shook,  lie  shrank,  he  writhed  at  the 
sight,  in  mortal  agony.     God,  as  Dawson  pictured  Him,  was 


MY   FAVORITE   PREACHERS.  95 

terrible  in  majesty  and  infinite  in  glory.  Jesus  was  the  per- 
fection of  tenderness,  of  love,  and  power,  and  almighty  to 
save.  Thousands  were  converted  under  him.  His  in- 
fluence pervaded  the  whole  country,  and  was  everywhere 
a  check  on'  evil,  and  a  power  for  good.  Xhe  effect  of  his 
ministry  on  me,  on  my  imagination,  my  mind  and  my 
heart,  was  living  and  powerful  to  the  last  degree,  and  I 
remember  his  sermons,  and  feel  his  power,  to  the  present 
day,  and  he  will  dwell  in  my  memory,  to  be  loved  and 
honored,  as  long  as  I  live. 

David  Stoner  was  a  travelling  preacher.  He  lived  in  the 
same  village  as  William  Dawson,  and  was  a  member  of 
his  class.  He  was  a  disciple  of  Dawson  in  every  respect, 
but  in  no  respect  a  servile  iiiiitator.  He  was  a  man  and 
not  a  slave.  And  he  had  much  of  Dawson's  sense,  and 
much  of  Dawson's  power,  though  little  or  nothing  of  Daw- 
son's natural  dramatic  manner.  He  was  a  fountain  pour- 
ing forth  a  perpetual  stream  of  truth  and  holy  influence. 
The  two  were  one  in  love,  and  light,  and  power,  but  in 
rannner  they  differed  as  much  as  any  two  powerful  preach- 
ers I  ever  knew.  Both  live  in  my  soul,  and  speak  with 
my  voice,  and  write  with  my  pen.  Both  had  an  in- 
fluence in  determining  both  the  method  of  my  preachino- 
and  the  manner  of  my  life  in  my  early  days. 

James  Parsons  was  a  Congregationalist.  His  character, 
and  the  character  of  his  preaching,  may  be  learned  from  his 
published  sermons.  But,  strange  to  say,  the  sermons  pub- 
lished by  himself,  are  not  near  so  good,  nor  do  they  convey 
half  so  good  an  idea  of  his  power,  as  those  reported  by  short- 
hand writers  and  published  by  others.  He  was  more,  and 
better,  and  mightier  in  the  pulpit,  before  a  large  and  living 
congregation,  than  in  his  closet  alone.  My  remembrance  of 
these  three  great  and  godly  men,  and  powerful  Christian 
ministers,  is  a  rich  and  eternal  treasure.  I  can  never  come 
near  them,  but  I  may  follow  them,  as  I  did  in  the  days  of 
my  youth,  "  Afar  off!" 

Whether  the  strong  practical  tendency  of  my  mind  did 
not  carry  me  too  flir  sometimes,  and  make  my  preaching 
somewhat  one-sided,  I  cannot  say.  I  may  not  be  considered 
qualified  to  judge.  I  have,  however,  an  opinion  on  the 
subject.     My  impression  is,  that  my  method  of  preaching 


96  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

was  thoroughly  scriptural  and  evangelical.  And  it  was,  I 
believe,  the  kind  of  preaching  which  the  Church  and  the 
world  particularly  needed.  It  was,  too,  the  kind  of  preach- 
ing to  which  I  believe  I  Avas  specially  called,  and  for  which 
I  was  specially  fitted.  It  was  the  only  kind  in  which  I 
felt  myself  perfectly  at  home.  And  the  effects  were  good. 
Sinners  were  converted.  Unbelievers  were  convinced. 
And  believers  were  improved  and  comforted.  They  were 
led  to  read  and  study  the  Scriptures  more,  and  to  read  and 
study  them  with  greater  pleasure,  and  to  greater  profit. 
They  became  more  enamoured  of  Christianity,  more  zealous 
for  its  spread,  and  more  able  in  its  defence. 

And  the  societies  among  which  I  labored  always  pros- 
pered, and  those  among  v/hich  I  labored  most  prospered 
most  abundantly.  My  labors  proved  especially  useful  to 
the  young.  My  classes  were  crowded  with  thoughtful,  ear- 
nest, inquiring  youths.  And  those  who  fell  under  my  in- 
fluence became,  as  a  rule,  intelligent,  devoted,  and  useful  cha- 
racters. Not  a  few  of  them  continue  laborious  and  exemplary 
Christians,  and  able  and  successful  ministers,  to  the  j^resent 
day.  I  meet  with  good  and  useful  people  almost  every- 
where, many  of  whom  are  in  the  ministry,  who  acknow- 
ledge me  as  their  spiritual  father,  and  consider  themselves 
indebted  to  my  former  ministry,  and  to  my  early  writings, 
both  for  their  standing  and  usefulness  in  the  Church,  and 
for  their  success  and  happiness  in  life. 

One  would  suppose  that  a  method  of  preaching  which 
was  followed  by  such  happy  results,  should  have  been  en- 
couraged. And  so  it  was  by  the  great  mass  of  the  people. 
They  heard  me  gladly.  They  came  in  crowds  wherever  I 
was  announced  to  preach,  and  filled  the  largest  chapels  to 
their  utmost  capacity.  They  drank  in  my  words  with  . 
eagerness,  and  made  no  secret  of  the  place  I  occupied  in 
their  affection  and  esteem.  But  many  of  my  brethren  in 
the  ministry  regarded  me  with  great  disquietude.  They 
thought  my  preaching  grievously  defective.  "  It  failed," 
they  said,  "  to  give  due  prominence  to  the  distinctive  fea- 
tures of  the  gospel  economy."  "  It  is  good,"  they  would 
say,  "  as  far  as  it  goes ;  but  it  does  not  go  far  enough.  It 
is  too  vague,  too  general.  His  sermons  arc  beautiful  and 
good  in  their  way,  but  they  are  not  the  Gospel.     They  are 


COMPLAINTS    OF    MY    BRETHREN.  97 

true;  but  they  are  not  the  whole  truth.  There  is  not 
enough  of  Christ  in  them.  We  find  fault  with  them,  not 
for  what  they  contain,  but  for  what  they  do  not  contain. 
True,  they  make  mention  of  the  great  facts  and  doctrines 
of  Christianity,  but  they  do  not  make  enough  of  them : 
they  do  not  dwell  on  them  as  their  constanf*theme."  They 
made  many  such  complaints.  They  charged  me  with 
winning  from  my  hearers,  for  a  partial  and  defective  view 
of  the  Gospel,  the  love  and  reverence  which  were  due  only 
to  a  very  different  view.  They  called  me  a  legalist,  a 
work-monger,  and  other  offensive  names.  They  charged 
me  too  with  spoiling  the  people,  with  giving  them  a  dis- 
taste for  ordinary  kinds  of  preaching,  and  making  it  hard 
for  other  preachers  to  follow  me.  The  complaints  they 
whispered  in  the  ears  of  their  friends  soon  found  their  way 
to  mine.  I  endeavored  to  justify  myself  by  appeals  to 
Scripture,  to  Wesley,  and  to  other  authorities.  It  would 
have  been  better  perhaps  if  I  had  kept  silent  and  gone  quiet- 
ly on  with  my  work.  But  some  of  my  friends  thought  other- 
wise. They  wished  to  be  furnished  with  answers  to  my 
traducers,  and  so  constrained  me  to  speak.  My  defence 
only  led  to  renewed  and  more  violent  attacks.  ^ly  oppo- 
nents could  not  think  well  of  my  style  of  preaching,  with- 
out thinking  ill  of  their  own.  They  could  not  acknowledge 
my  method  to  be  evangelical,  without  confessing  their  own 
to  be  grievously  defective,  and  to  have  expected  them  to  do 
that  would  have  been  the  extreme  of  folly.  They  could  do 
no  other  therefore  than  regard  me  as  a  dangerous  man,  and 
do  what  they  could  to  bring  my  preaching  and  sentiments 
into  suspicion,  and  prepare  the  way  for  my  exclusion  from 
the  ministry.  This  was  the  second  cause  of  the  unhappy 
feeling  whicli  took  possession  of  my  mind. 

A  few  quotations  from  a  Journal  written  about  this  time 
may  be  of  use  and  interest  here. 


98  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

EXTRACTS  FROM   MY   DIARY. 

I  HEARD  T.  Batty  yesterday.  His  text  was,  "  Come 
unto  Mc  all  ye  that  labor,  and  are  heavy-laden,  and  I 
will  give  you  rest."  He  urged  people  to  come  to  Christ,  but 
he  never  told  them  what  it  was  to  eome  to  Him.  We 
cannot  come  to  Him  literally  now,  as  people  did  when  He 
was  on  earth  ;  but  we  can  leave  all  other  teachers  and 
guides,  and  renounce  the  dominion  of  our  appetites  and 
passions,  and  put  ourselves  under  His  teaching  and  govern- 
ment. In  other  words,  we  can  become  Christians ;  we  can 
learn  Christ's  doctrine  and  obey  it,  and,  thus  obeying,  trust 
in  Hini  for  salvation.  But  Mr.  Batty  said  not  a  word 
about  tliis.  He  talked  as  if  all  that  people  had  to  do,  was 
to  roll  themselves  on  Christ,  or  cast  themselves  on  Him 
just  as  they  were.  He  made  all  the  passages  about  bring- 
ing forth  fruits  meet  for-  repentance, — hearing  Christ's 
words  and  doing  them, — denying  ourselves  and  taking  up 
our  cross, — using  our  talents,  working  in  His  cause,  &c., 
of  no  effect.  He  said,  "  Come  just  as  you  are.  If  you 
tarry  till  you  are  better,  you  will  never  come  at  all ;" 
which  sGcms  to  me,  neither  Scripture  nor  common  sense. 
To  come  to  Christ,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  words,  is  to 
become  better ; — if  is  to  cease  to  live  to  ourselves  and  sin, 
and  to  live  to  God.  Hence  Christ,  in  connection  with  Mr. 
Batty's  tc\t;t  says,  "  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of 
Me,  for  I  am  meek,  and  lowly  in  heart,  and  ye  shall  find 
rest  unto  your  souls."  The  meaning  of  this  is,  give  up 
the  service  of  self  and  sin,  and  serve  me.  Take  me  for 
your  pattern,  and  be  as  I  am,  and  live  as  I  live."  But 
he  never  noticed  the  latter  part  of  the  passage.     ' 

— What  a  blessed  thing  it  is  to  have  so  many  good  books  ! 
They  are  a  world  of  comfort  to  me,  as  well  as  a  means  of 
ever-increasing  spiritual  good.  And  they  are  evermore 
startling  and  delighting  me  with  striking  oracles  of  Chris- 
tian truth.  Here  is  one  from  Baxter.  "  Every  truth  of 
God  is  appointed  to  be  His  instrument,  to  do  some  holy 


EXTRACTS    FROM    MY   DIARY.  99 

work  upon  your  heart !  Charity  is  the  end  of  truth."  Here 
is  another:  "The  Gospel  is  a  seal,  on  winch  is  engraven 
the  portrait,  the  likeness  of  Christ.  Our  hearts  are  the 
wax,  on  which  the  seal  should  be  impressed,  and  to  which 
the  likeness  should  be  transferred.  The  d»ty  of  ministers 
and  of  all  religious  teachers  is  to  apply  the  seal  to  men's 
hearts,  that  all  may  be  brought  to  bear  the  image,  the 
likeness  of  Christ." 

— I  always  placed  the  moral  element  of  religion  above 
the  doctrinal ;  charity  above  faith ;  good  living  above  any 
kind  of  opinions. 

— This  afternoon  Mr.  Burrows  preached  on  Mary's 
choice,  but  he  left  the  matter  in  a  mist.  He  talked  about 
sitting  at  Christ's  feet,  but  did  not  say  what  it  meant.  We 
cannot  do  that  literally  now ;  but  we  can  do  what  amounts 
to  the  same  thing.  We  can  read  Christ's  words  in  the 
Gospels,  as  Mary  heard  them  from  His  lips  ;  and  we  can 
do  as  He  bids  us,  and  look  to  Him  for  all  we  need.  And 
this,  in  truth,  is  the  "  one  thing  needful."  But  he  did  not 
put  the  matter  in  this  light.  He  probably  did  not  see  it 
in  this  light.  He  would  have  been  afraid  perhaps  to 
receive  or  to  give  so  simple  an  explanation   of  the   matter. 

I  had  a  talk  with  Mr.  Woodhouse  last  night,  about  man's 
natural  state.  He  preached  on  the  subject  on  Tuesday 
night,  and  said  things  which,  to  me,  seemed  unwarranted. 
He  said  men  can  do  nothing  good,  till  they  are  regenerated. 

Is  that  your  idea  ?  said  I. 

Of  course.  Are  they  not  dead  ?  And  what  can  dead 
men  do  ? 

I  suppose  they  can  do  as  God  bids  them,  "  Arise  from 
the  dead."  You  spoke  of  the  result  of  Adam's  sin,  but 
you  said  nothing  of  the  effect  of  the  second  Adam's 
doings.  Now  I  believe  that  we  are  put  in  as  good  a  posi- 
tion by  Christ,  for  serving  God  and  obtaining  heaven,  as 
we  should  have  been  if  Adam  had  not  sinned.  I  believe 
men  have  good  thoughts,  good  feelings,  and  do  good 
things,  before  they  are  regenerated ;  and  that  they  are  re- 
generated in  consequence  of  their  good  thoughts,  good 
purposes,  and  good  deeds.  "  They  consider  their  ways," 
and  turn  to  God.  They  cease  to  do  evil,  and  learn  to  do  well, 
and  so  get  washed.     They  purify  their  hearts   in   obeying 


100  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

the  truth.  They  cleanse  their  hands  and  purify  their 
hearts.  They  come  out  from  the  ungodly,  and  leave  their 
ungodly  ways,  and  then  God  receives  them.  They  hear 
God's  word  or  read  it ;  and  faith  comes  by  hearing  and 
reading ;  and  faith  works  by  love,  and  makes  them  new 
creatures. 

Besides,  you  know  we  could  not  help  what  Adam  did, 
and  you  talked  as  if  Adam's  sin  made  it  impossible  for  us 
to  do  anything  else  but  sin,  thus  throwing  the  blame  of 
the  sins  of  all  the  unregenerate  on  Adam  ;  and  that  is 
neither  Scriptural  nor  wise.  There  are  two  tendencies  in 
unregenerate  people,  one  to  good,  and  one  to  evil,  and  it  is 
their  duty  to  resist  the  one  and  obey  the  other,  and  thus  to 
seek  for  regeneration.  That  is  as  I  understand  the  Bible. 
And  I  always  try  to  make  people  believe  and  feel,  that  if 
they  do  not  get  regenerated,  and  keep  God's  command- 
ments, it  is  their  own  fault,  and  neither  Adam's  nor  God's. 

We  talked  nearly  an  hour,  but  I  fancy  Mr.  W.  did  not 
seem  to  understand  either  me  or  the  Bible.  It  is  strange 
that  people  can't  take  God's  word  as  it  stands,  and  content 
themselves  with  speaking  as  the  oracles  of  God  speak. 
If  we  can't  do  anything  but  sin  till  we  are  regenerated, 
who  is  to  blame  for  our  sin,  but  He  who  neglects  to  re- 
generate us?  What  horrible  notions  are  mistaken  by 
some  for  Gospel  ?  "  Send  out,  O  God,  thy  light  and  truth ; 
let  them  lead  me  and  guide  me." 

— Poor  Mr.  Woodhouse  is  full  of  trouble.  He  thinks 
me  wrong,  but  does  not  see  how  to  put  me  right. 

— What  a  curious  creature  Mr.  Batty  is.  How  in  the 
world  did  he  come  to  be  a  preacher  ?  A  stranger,  sillier 
talker  I  think  I  never  heard.  I  cannot  say  he  is  childish 
exactly.  Children  talk  nonsense  plenty  sometimes,  but  no 
child  could  talk  the  kind  of  nonsense  ISIr.  Batty  talks. 
Last  niglit  his  text  was,  "  He  shall  baptize  you  with  the 
Holy  Ghost  and  with  fire."  But  he  forgot  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  talked  only  about  fire.  His  object  seemed  to  be  to 
prove  that  fire  would  bi(rn.  He  mentioned  several  fires 
spoken  of  in  the  Bible  that  did  burn,  such  as  the  fire  that 
consumed  Sodom  and  Gomorrah;  the  fire  that  formed  one 
of  the  ])lagues  of  Egypt ;  etc.,  but  he  came  at  length  on 
the  fire  in  the  bush  that  Moses  saw,  and,  poor  man,  he  was 


EXTRACTS   FROM   MY   DIARY.  '  101 

obliged  to  acknowledge  that  that  would  not  burn.  The 
bush  was  uncousumed.  He  got  away  from  that  fire  as 
soon  as  he  could,  and  found  a  number  of  other  fires  that 
did  burn.  By  and  by  however  he  came  upon  the  burning 
fiery  furnace  of  Nebuchadnezzar.  This  ^'ould  burn  some 
that  were  thrown  into  it,  but  it  would  not  burn  others. 
Then  he  talked  about  the  fire  of  Moscow,  and  said,  that 
that  fire  gave  as  much  light  to  the  moon,  as  the  moon  gives 
to  the  earth,  and  he  added,  that  the  flames  of  the  burning 
city  made  such  a  blaze,  that  we  might  have  seen  it  in  Eng- 
land, if  it  had  not  been  for  the  hills.  And  this  is  the  talk 
that  sensible  people  are  expected  to  go  and  hear. 

— Mr.  W.  preached  one  of  Mr.  Melville's  sermons  last 
night.  It  was  a  good  one  though,  and  I  had  rather  a  man 
preached  another  man's  good  sense,  than  his  own  nonsense. 
And  I  had  rather  hear  a  good  sermon  read,  than  a  bad 
one  spoken.  Let  us  have  good  sound  sense,  real  Christian 
doctrine,  and  fervent  Christian  love,  in  the  first  place,  and 
then  as  many  other  good  things  as  we  can  get.  But  do  let 
the  children  of  God  have  good  wholesome  bread,  the  bread 
of  heaven,  and  pure  living  water  from  the  wells  of  salva- 
tion. Don't  try  to  feed  men's  souls  with  chaff  or  chopped 
straw,  and  don't  give  them  mud  or  muddy  water  to  drink. 

— Heard  Mr.  Hulme  last  night  on  "  The  Cross  of 
Christ."  The  sermon  was  an  attempt  at  fine  preaching. 
It  was  not  to  my  taste.  The  preacher  did  not  seem  to  un- 
derstand his  subject.  What  he  said  had  nothing  to  do 
with  the  conscience  or  the  heart.  It  was  talk, — tumid 
talk — high-swelling  words,  nothing  more. 

— Heard  Mr.  Allen  preach  on  the  Flood.  He  talked  a 
deal  about  granite — labored  hard  to  prove  something  ; 
but  whether  he  succeeded  or  not,  I  cannot  exactly  tell. 
It  was  a  "  great  sermon  "  and  had  little  effect.  I  did  not 
feel  much  interest  in  it. 

— Heard  him  preach  another  great  sermon  on  Isaiah's 
vision.  It  amounted  to  nothing.  I  prefer  a  simpler  and 
more  practical  kind  of  preaching. 

— Heard  him  preach  another  sermon  on  death  by  Adam. 
It  was  not  so  great  nor  so  foolish  as  the  others.  The  logic 
was  w^earisome,  but  the  application  was  tolerable. 

— Heard  Dr.  Newton,  on  preaching  Christ.     His  views 


102  MODERX     SKEPTICISM. 

on  the  subject  are  very  different  from  Wesley's,  and  as 
different  from  mine.  I  have  heard  many  silly  sermons  on 
the  subject,  but  not  one  wise  one.  Many  seem  to  be  afraid 
of  being  sensible  on  religious  subjects.  They  are  wise 
enough  on  smaller  matters;  it  is  only  on  the  greatest 
that  their  understandings  are  at  fault.  But  the  silliest 
preachers  repeat  good  words  in  their  sermons,  such  as 
Christ,  God,  love  and  heaven,  and  these  words  no  doubt 
call  up  good  thoughts,  and  revive  good  feelings  in  the 
minds  of  people,  so  that  the  most  pitiful  preachers  may  be 
of  some  use.  But  how  much  more  useful  would  good, 
sound,  sensible  and  truly  Christian  preachers  be,  who  al- 
w\ays  talked  plain  Christian  truth,  and  pressed  it  home  in 
'a  loving,  Christ-like  spirit. 

— Heard  Mr.  Curtis  last  night.  His  text  and  introduc- 
tion were  good  ;  but  the  sermon  was  good  for  nothing. 

— Heard  Mr.  Pea  this  afternoon.  The  chief  use  of 
many  preachers  is  to  visit  the  members,  and  stand  at  the 
head  of  the  societies  as  centres  of  union.  They  do  not  do 
much  good  by  preaching. 

— God  save  me  fi'om  error  and  sin.  Lead  me  in  the 
way  of  truth  and  righteousness.  I  feel  a  dreadful  contempt 
for  some  men's  preaching.  Save  me  from  going  too  far. 
But  really,  to  hear  how  careful  some  are  to  warn  people 
against  thinking  too  highly  of  good  Avorks,  one  might  sup- 
pose that  the  world  and  the  Church  were  going  to  be  sent 
to  perdition  for  too  much  piety  and  charity  ;  for  doing  too 
much  good,  and  making  too  many  sacrifices  for  God  and 
the  salvation  of  the  world.  O  fools  and  blind,  not  to  see, 
that  selfishness,  idleness,  luxury,  pride,  worldliness,  slavery 
to  fashion,  neglect  of  the  Bible,  ignorance  and  lukewarm- 
ness  are  the  things  which  disgrace  and  weaken  the  Church, 
and  hinder  the  salvation  of  mankind. 

— INIr.  Stoner  preached  powerfully  last  night.  He  said 
all  true  Christians  would  "  sigh  and  cry  on  account  of  the 
abominations  that  are  done  in  the  land, — that  they  would 
accompany  their  sighing  and  crying  with  ceaseless  labors 
for  the  removal  of  those  abominations, — that  they  would 
try  to  bring  the  world  into  the  Church,  and  lift  up  the 
Church  to  the  standard  exhibited  in  the  life  and  character 
of  Christ, — that  they  would  pray,  teach,  live  and  give,  and 


EXTRACTS   PROM   MY   DIARY.  103 

i'f  needful,  suffer  for  this  great  end."  I  have  not  heard 
such  a  practical, — such  a  truly  Christian  Gospel  sermon  for 
a  long  time. 

— I  notice,  that  in  some  men's  mouths,  evangelical  ser- 
mons mean  theological  sermons, — wood,  "hay,  and  stubble 
sermons, — sermons  without  any  Gospel  in  them  ;  and  that 
sermons  which  are  evangelical  indeed,  they  talk  of  as  legal, 
moral,  dry. 

— Mr.  Lynn  preached  on  the  fall  of  Jericho  yesterday. 
It  was  quite  a  dramatic  sermon,  and  it  was  plainly  inter- 
esting to  the  congregation.  I  expect  it  was  useful  too. 
There  was  not  much  Christian  truth  in  it,  but  it  stirred 
the  people's  better  feelings.  It  made  them  feel  like  doing 
something  for  God.  The  nonsensical  theology  introduced 
would  not  be  understood  I  hope. 

— Heard  Mr.  T.  Parsons  preach  a  beautiful  Christian 
sermon  on  "  Brethren,  if  a  man  be  overtaken  in  a  fault, 
ye  which  are  spiritual,  restore  such  a  one  in  the  spirit  of 
meekness,  considering  thyself  lest  thou  also  be  tempted. 
Bear  ye  one  another's  burdens,  and  so  fulfil  the  law  of 
Christ."  It  was  full  of  useful  instruction  and  needful 
caution,  and  it  was  uttered  in  a  truly  Christian  spirit.  It 
did  me  good. 

— Heard  Mr.  Scott  on  justification.  He  ventured  to 
"  speak  as  the  oracles  of  God."  It  was  a  thoroughly 
Gospel  and  Wesleyan  sermon.  He  was  plainer  than  he  is  in 
his  pamphlets  on  that  subject.  I  can't  say  he  made  the  subject 
plain,  for  it  was  plain  already  in  the  Bible — but  he  left  it 
plain,  and  that  is  saying  a  great  deal.  He  said  that  the  sim- 
ple way  for  a  man  who  believes  in  Christ,  to  obtain  pardon 
and  eternal  life  is,  to  do  God's  will.  I  distinguish  between 
faith  and  trust ;  faith  is  belief ;  trust  or  hope  is  one  of  its 
fruits.  People  believe  in  Christ,  and  turn  to  God ;  then 
they  trust  in  Christ  and  find  peace.  •  He  did  not  state  this 
point  with  sufficient  clearness ;  and  that  was  the  only 
defect  I  saw  in  the  discourse.  How  rich  and  how  apt  he 
is  in  Scriptural  quotations  and  illustrations  !  I  had  rather 
hear  one  of  his  discourses,  than  ten  of  INIr.  Allin's.  And 
I  had  rather  hear  ten  of  his,  than  one  of  Mr.  Allin's.  I 
had  rather  hear  one  of  Mr.  Allin's,  than. ten;  and  I  had 
rather  hear  ten  of  Mr.  Scott's  than  one.  I  could  listen  to 
Mr.  Scott  the  whole  year  round. 


104  MODERN  SKEPTICISM. 

— I  have  just  been  reading  a  big  book,  nearly  five 
hundred  pages,  on  the  way  of  salvation.  The  Scriptures 
explain  the  way  of  salvation  in  less  than  a  thousandth 
part  the  space.  "  Repent  and  be  converted,  that  your  sins 
may  be  blotted  out ;"  that's  the  first  thing :  "  Be  ye  stead- 
fast, unniovable,  always  abounding  in  the  work  of  the 
Lord :"  that's  the  second.  These  two  include  the  whole 
way  of  salvation.  "  Blessed  is  every  one  that  hears  the 
word  of  God  and  keeps  it."  This  is  both  in  one.  Mys- 
tery makers  would  be  a  proper  name  for  some  theolo- 
gians. "  In  the  multitude  of  words  there  wauteth  not 
sin ;"  and  there's  a  fearful  multitude  of  words, — idle 
words,  and  mischievous  ones  too, — in  that  Book.  "When 
will  vain  words  have  an  end  ?" 

— Mr.  Hatman  preached  on  instantaneous  sanctifica- 
tion  last  night.  He  was  very  confused,  and,  as  I  think, 
inconsistent  in  his  remarks  ;  and  his  arguing  about  the  in- 
stantaneousness  of  sanctification  seemed  weak.  Sanctification, 
in  Scripture  language,  means,  1.  Separation  of  things  and 
persons  from  common  uses,  and  consecration  to  sacred  uses. 
2.  Purification.  A  man  is  sanctified  in  the  first  sense  when 
he  ceases  to  (fo  evil,  and  begins  to  do  well ;  and  he  is 
sanctified  in  the  second  sense  in  proportion  as  he  is  freed 
from  inward  defilement,  from  bad  pa&sions,  bad  tempers, 
bad  dispositions,  bad  tendencies,  and  filled  with  love  to 
God,  to  Christ,  to  God's  people,  to  mankind  at  large,  and 
to  all  things  true  and  good.  There  is  no  mystery  about 
sanctification.  People  are  sanctified  by  God's  truth. 
Christ's  doctrine  enters  the  mind,  and  is  the  means  of 
changing  both  the  disposition  and  the  life.  IMen  are 
sanctified  by  the  Spirit,  using  the  truth  as  its  instrument. 
They  are  sanctified  by  affiictions,  used  by  God  as  means  to 
bring  them  to  think  on  the  truth,  and  see  its  meaning,  and 
feel  its  power.  They  are  sanctified  by  filth,  which  is  a 
belief  in  the  Truth.  They  are  sanctified  by  their  own 
efforts,  "  Cleansing  themselves  from  all  filthincss,  both  of 
the  flesli  and  the  spirit,  perfecting  holiness  in  the  fear  of 
the  Lord."  "  For  every  one  that  hath  this  liopc, — the 
Christian  hope  of  heaven, — in  him,  purifieth  himself  even 
as  God  is  pure."  All  this  is  perfectly  plain.  But  where 
does  the  Scripture  say  anything  about  people  being  wholly 
sanctified,  or  perfected  in  goodness,  instantaneously,  by  some 


EXTRACTS   FEOM   MY   DIARY  105 

particular  act  of  faith  ?  "  But  God  can  do  it  in  an  in- 
stant," said  Mr.  Hatman.  But  it  is  not  all  God's  work. 
It  is  partlv  ours  ;  and  it  is  partly  the  truth's.  Can  man 
purify  himself  as  God  is  pure,  in  an  instant  ?  God  could 
make  a  babe  into  a  man  in  an  instant/^for  anything  I 
know;  but  that  is  not  His  way.  He  allows  it  to  grow 
gradually,  first  by  the  use  of  milk  and  exercise,  and  then 
by  the  use  of  stronger  meat,  and  greater  labors.  And  ac- 
cording to  Scripture,  this  is  His  plan  of  bringing  up 
spiritual  babes  to  spiritual  manhood.  God  could  make  seed 
produce  a  crop  instantaneously,  if  He  would,  I  suppose ; 
but  His  plan  is  to  let  the  grain  grow  and  ripen  gradually. 
And  it  is  His  plan,  according  to  Scripture,  to  let  tlie  spirit- 
ual grain  grow  up  and  the  spiritual  harvest  ripqn  gradu- 
ally. And  it  is  better  it  should  be  so.  Gradual  growth 
in  knowledge  and  goodness  is  most  conducive,  I  believe, 
to  the  happiness  of  man.  I  would  not  make  a  child  into 
a  man  all  at  once  if  I  could.  I  would  let  him  have  the 
pleasure  and  the  privilege  of  passing,  in  the  ordinary  way, 
through  all  the  intermediate  stages.  Nor  would  I  alter 
the  arrangement  with  regard  to  spiritual  growth.  It  is 
best  to  learn  a  lesson  at  a  time.  You  i^ight  raise  the 
dough  quicker  by  gunpowder  than  by  leaven  or  yeast ; 
but  I  prefer  to  see  it  raised  in  the  ordinary  way.  I  am 
content  to  grow  in  grace  and  knowledge,  as  people  grow 
in  strength  and  stature.  It  is  God's  plan,  and  I  like  it. 
If  anybody  can  pass  from  the  gates  of  hell  to  the  gates  of 
heaven,  from  the  bottom  of  the  horrible  pit  to  the  top  of 
the  delectable  mountains  at  a  jump,  let  him ;  I  prefer  to 
trudge  with  ordinary  pilgrims,  and  enjoy  the  pleasures  of 
the  journey,  and  the  beautiful  scenery  of  the  road,  at  my 
leisure.  "  The  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness ;  the  paths 
are  paths  of  peace ;"  and  I  enjoy  them.  And  I  would 
not  for  the  world,  make  the  impression  on  people's  minds, 
that  they  are  in  danger  of  perdition,  if  they  cannot  skip  across 
the  universe  from  hell  to  heaven  in  no  time.  God  likes 
spiritual  children  as  well  as  spiritual  men,  though  He 
would  not  have  them  to  continue  children.  Why  should 
preachers  make  things  hard  that  God  makes  easy,  and  re- 
quire impossible  tasks  where  God  asks  only  a  reasonable 
service  ?     Some  folks  have  little  minds,  and  some  have 


106     '  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

crooked  ones.  That's  my  view  of  the  matter.  I  am 
charged  with  rejecting  God's  truth.  The  fact  however 
is,  God's  truth  is  the  joy  and  rejoicing  of  my  heart.  It 
is  my  pleasant  food.  But  I  do  not  like  some  people's 
manglement  of  that  truth,  and  I  sometimes  think  the 
manglers  belong  to  the  class  of  whom  Christ  said,  "  It  were 
good  for  those  men  if  they  had  never  been  born."  They 
lay  stumbling-blocks  in  men's  ways,  and  cause  them  to 
fall  into  doubt,  perplexity,  and  misery.  I  am  a  believer 
in  sanctification, — full  sanctification, — but  I  won't  go 
beyond  the  Bible  in  what  I  say,  either  on  this  or  any  other 
point.     I  will  go  as  far  as  the  Bible,  but  no  farther. 

— Christianity  is  love;  and  love  prompts  to  diligence  in 
all  good  ^orks.  To  be  a  Christian  is  to  have  the  mind  of 
Christ ;  but  the  mind  of  Christ  was  a  self-sacrificing  mind. 
"He  pleased  not  Himself,"  but  lived  and  labored,  suffered 
and  died,  for  the  welfare  of  mankind. 

How  seldom  one  hears  a  sermon  on  living  for  the  good 
of  others, — on  loving  our  neighbors  as  ourselves, — on  going 
about  doing  good.  I  have  read  sermons  on  those  subjects  ; 
but  I  have  not  heard  one  for  years.  I  have  heard  charity 
sermons  as  they  are  called,  and  missionary  sermons,  into 
which  a  remark  or  two  on  doing  good  were  thrown;  but  a 
sermon,  on  the  subject  I  have  not  heard.  Certain  preach- 
ers talk  about  preaching  Christ,  but  they  preach  any  thing 
rather  than  Christ. 

— I  have  jiist  been  reading  a  labored  and  foolish  attempt 
to  prove  that  Abel  was  accepted  because  he  offered  ani- 
mals to  God,  and  that  Cain  was  rejected  because  he  offered 
the  fruits  of  the  ground.  There  is  no  end  to  the  nonsense 
that  can  be  talked  and  written  on  religious  subjects.  Here 
is  a  man  from  whom  one  expected  instruction  and  guid- 
ance, wasting  his  great  powers  in  worse  than  idleness.  It 
is  a  foolish  and  a  dangerous  thing  to  hang  the  doctrine  of 
reconciliation  or  redemption  on  a  slender  hook,  when  there 
are  strong  ones  plenty  to  hang  it  on.  But  it  is  not  the 
Christian  doctrine  of  redemption  for  which  INIr.  W.  labors 
so  zealously,  but  a  theory,  a  crotchet,  an  invention  of  the 
elders.  The  doctrine  itself  requires  no  labored  proof,  no 
doubtful  criticisms,  no  learned  or  unlearned  inquiry  into 
Greek  and  Hebrew  etymologies.     It  lies  on  the  surface  of 


EXTRACTS   FROM   MY   DIARY.  107 

the  sacred  page.  "  The  Son  of  man  came  not  to  be  minis- 
tered unto,  but  to  minister,  and  to  give  His  life  a  ransom 
for  many."  "  He  died  the  just  for  the  unjust,  to  bring  us 
to  God."  "  He  died  for  all,  that  they  who  live  should 
henceforth  live  not  unto  themselves,  'but  unto  Him 
who  died  for  them  and  rose  again."  These  theorists 
make  Christianity  disgusting  by  their  metaphysical  vani- 
ties, and  their  outlandish  jargon.  The  idea  that  it  is  ne- 
cessary for  me  to  believe  that  Abel  understood  the  Chris- 
tian doctrine  of  redemption,  is  monstrous.  There  is  no 
proof  that  Abel  knew  anything  about  it.  The  probabili- 
ties lean  all  the  other  way.  It  is  a  pity  those  self-satisfied 
theorizers  have  not  something  else  to  do,  than  to  encumber 
religion  and  perplex  good  people  by  their  miserable  specu- 
lations. 

— There's  another  book,  one  thousand  two  hundred  and 
fifty  pages,  by  a  man  that  had  real  talent,  and  that  could 
preach  well  when  he  took  in  hand  practical  subjects,  and 
who  had  the  appearance  of  a  good  man,  and  nine-tenths 
of  this  work  of  his  is  mischievous  trifling.  The  clown 
at  a  theatre,  the  mountebank  on  the  stage,  are  not  so  badly 
employed  as  theological  triflers,  who  darken  counsel  by 
words  without  lAowledge.  It  is  not  in  prayer  only,  but 
in  preaching  and  writing,  that  men  should  be  in  God's 
fear,  and  let  their  words  be  few. 

Mr.  Jones  preached  last  night  on  Christ  in  you,  the 
hope  of  glory.  I  can  understand,  1.  How  Christ,  in  the 
sense  of  Christianity,  or  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  can  be  in 
us.  We  sometimes  hear  from  people  such  expressions  as  : 
"  He  is  full  of  Plato,  or  full  of  Seneca,  or  full  of  Shake- 
speare," when  speaking  of  a  man  who  has  got  his  mind 
full  of  the  sentiments  of  those  writers.  And  I  can  un- 
derstand well  enough  how  Christianity,  which  brings  life 
and  immortality  to  light,  should  beget  in  men's  minds  a 
hope  of  glory.  2.  I  can  understand  how  Christ,  in  the 
sense  of  Christ's  spirit,  tempery  disposition,  mind,  can  be 
in  us.  We  sometimes  say  of  a  person  who  exhibits 
much  of  his  father's  disposition.  He  has  got  a  deal  of 
his  father  in  him.  And  I  can  understand  how  Christ  in 
us  in  this  sense  should  be,  or  should  kindle,  the  hope 
of  glory.     For  the  mind  of  Christ  is    man's    fitness    for 


108  MODERN  SKEPTICISM. 

glory.  The  mind  of  Christ,  and  the  life  to  which  it 
prompts,  are  the  things  to  which  eternal  glory  is  promised. 
But  I  couldn't  understand  Mr.  Jones.  Either  he  had 
no  ideas  on  the  subject,  or  he  failed  to  convey  them  to  me. 

— I  see  no  mystery  in  John's  doctrine  that  God  dwells 
in  those  in  whom  love  dwells,  for  God  is  love.  And  I 
see  no  mystery  in  what  Peter  says  about  Christians 
being  partakers  of  the  divine  nature ;  for  the  Divine 
nature  is  purity,  wisdom  and  love.  We  share  the  com- 
mon human  nature  and  the  common  animal  nature ;  that  is, 
we  have  certain  qualities  or  properties  in  common  with 
men  generally,  and  with  the  inferior  orders  of  living 
things.  So  we  share  the  divine  nature,  when  we  have 
the  same  dispositions,  affections,  qualities  as  the  divine 
Being.  And  the  properties  of  the  divine  being  are 
purity,  knowledge,  love. 

— I  have  just  been  listening  to  another  antinomian  ser- 
mon. The  preacher  contended  that  we  are  justified  and 
saved  solely  on  account  of  what  Christ  has  done  and 
suffered  for  us,  and  that  the  only  thing  we  have  to  do,  is 
to  believe  this,  or  trust  in  the  merits  of  Christ,  and  be  at 
rest  as  to  our  eternal  destiny.  But  if  we  are  saved  solely 
on  account  of  what  Christ  has  done  and  suffered,  why  talk 
as  if  our  believing  this,  or  hasting  in  Chrisfs  merits,  was 
necessary  to  salvation  ?  Why  not  go  a  step  further  and 
say,  that  neither  believing  nor  trusting  has  anything  to  do 
with  our  salvation  ?  But  the  whole  theory  is  as  anti-scrip- 
tural and  false  as  it  is  foolish  and  mischievous.  The  preacher 
said,  "  We  are  not  under  the  law, — Christ  has  redeemed 
us  from  the  curse  of  the  law."  Very  true ;  but  we  are  un- 
der the  Gospel  ;  and  the  Gospel  requires  a  more  perfect 
life  than  the  law  required.  The  law  of  Christ  is  much 
stricter  than  the  law  of  Moses.  He  said,  "  By  the  works 
of  the  law  no  flesh  living  can  be  justified."  But  we  may 
still  be  justified  by  the  works  of  the  Gospel.  "  Forgive, 
and  ye  shall  be  forgiven."  "  By  thy  words  shalt  thou  be 
justified,  and  by  thy  words  shalt  thou  be  condemned." 
"  With  what  measure  ye  mete,  it  shall  be  measured  to  you 
again."  "  Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for  they  shall  obtain 
mercy."  "  Because  thou  hast  been  faithful  over  a  few 
things,  I  will  make  thee  ruler  over  many  things:  enter 


EXTRACTS   FROM   MY  DIARY.  109 

thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord."  "  Repent  and  be  convert- 
ed, that  your  sins  may  be  blotted  out."  ''  We  have  confi- 
dence in  the  day  of  judgment,  because  as  He  was  so  are  we 
in  this  world." 

He  said  circumcision  availeth  nothing,^  and  it  is  true 
that  "  the  circumcision  which  is  outward  in  the  flesh"  avails 
nothing  under  the  Christian  dispensation  :  but  that  which 
is  inward,  namely,  the  putting  away  of  all  filthiness,  and 
living  a  holy  life,  availeth  much. 

Then  followed  a  lot  of  unscriptural  and  unwise  talk 
about  our  own  righteousness  and  Christ's  righteousness. 
But  the  truth  is,  when  we  love  God  and  keep  His  com- 
mandments,— when  we  love  Christ  and  do  as  He  bids  us, 
and  believe,  in  consequence,  that  we  are  approved  of  God, 
and  in  a  fair  way  for  heaven,  we  trust  in  God's  righteous- 
ness, or  Christ's  righteousness,  and  not  in  a  righteousness 
of  our  own.  The  righteousness  of  God  means  the  righteous- 
ness which  God  i^equires  ;  the  righteousness  of  Christ  means 
obedience  to  His  precepts,  and  conformity  to  His  mind  and 
character.  True,  if  I  obey  the  Gospel,  my  obedience  is  my 
own,  but  the  law,  or  the  righteousness  ^r(?scr/6fc/,  is  Christ's. 
It^  is  when  men  make  a  law  of  their  own, — when  they  set 
aside  God's  law,  and  put  some  other  law  in  its  place,  and  ex- 
pect God's  blessing  in  consequence  of  obeying  that,  that  they 
trust  in  their  own  righteousness.  And  in  all  such  cases 
men's  own  righteousness,  in  God's  sight,  is  "  as  filthy  rags." 
But  hearty,  loving  obedience  to  God's  own  law  is  never 
regarded  by  Him  "as  filthy  rags,"  but  as  a  rich  adorning. 
Real  Christian  goodness  is,  in  the  sight  of  God,  "  of  great 
price." 

'  Than  gold  or  pearls  more  precious  far, 
And  brighter  than  the  morning  star." 

Christian  obedience  is  a  sacrifice  with  which  God  is  well 
pleased.  "  To  do  good  and  to  communicate  forget  not,  for 
with  such  sacrifices  God  is  well  pleased."  He  alone  trusts  in 
the  righteousness  of  Christ  who  hears  Christ's  words  and 
does  them, — who  cultivates  Christ's  mind,  and  lives  as 
Christ  lived,  and  who,  in  doing  so,  expects,  according  to 
Christ's  promise,  God's  blessing  and  eternal  life.  The  idea 
that  God  looks  on  any  persons  as  having  lived  like  Christ 


110  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

when  they  have  not  done  so ;  or  that  He  supposes  any  per- 
sons to  be  righteous,  or  treats  them  as  righteous,  when  they 
are  not  so,  is  foolish  and  anti-scriptural  in  the  extreme.  And 
it  is  uumethodistical  too.  Yet  here  ig  a  Methodist  preacher 
so-called,  dealing  out  this  mischievous  and  miserable  folly. 
And  alas  he  is  not  alone.  And  these  are  the  men  who 
abuse  others  as  heretics. 

— The  good  done  where  preachers  preach  theology  is  not 
done  by  the  preaching,  I  fancy,  but  by  stray  truth  from  the 
Gospels,  and  by  the  Christian  lives  and  Christian  labors  of 
simple-minded,  Bible-loving,  non-theological  members  of 
the  church.     God  bless  them  ! 

— Wesley  has  thirty  definitions  of  religion,  and  they  all 
mean,  in  substance,  loving  God  and  loving  man,  and  living 
to  do  good.  Wesley  was  always  sensible  in  proportion  as 
he  got  away  from  under  the  influence  of  the  prevailing 
Theology. 

— Some  talk  as  if  a  religious  education  can  never  be  the 
means  of  a  child's  conversion, — that,  do  for  your  children 
what  you  will,  they  will  still,  like  others,  require  a  distinct 
and  full  conversion  when  they  come  of  age.  I  cannot  see 
why  a  good  Christian  mother  talking  to  her  child  from  her 
old  arm-chair,  and  praying  with  it  as  it  kneels  by  her 
side,  or  the  good  example  and  godly  training  of  a  pious 
father,  may  not  be  made  as  effectual  to  the  gradual  conver- 
sion of  a  child  as  the  preaching  of  a  pastor  from  the  pulpit. 
Nor  can  I  see  why  a  gradual  elevation  of  a  child  to  the 
higher  spiritual  life  should  not  be  as  possible  and  as  proba- 
ble as  the  sudden  elevation  of  a  hardened  and  inveterate 
sinner.  '  You  cannot  give  your  children  grace,'  it  is  said : 
but  it  is  easy  to  answer,  '  God  can  give  children  grace 
through  the  medium  of  Christian  parents,  as  well  as  through 
public  preachers  and  teachers.'  I  encourage  people  to  bring 
up  their  children  in  Christian  knowledge  and  goodness,  by 
telling  them  that  God  may  be  expected  to  bless  their  labors 
to  the  sa notification  and  salvation  of  their  children  from 
their  early  days.  Baxter  used  to  thank  God  that  he  was 
led  by  his  good  parents  to  love  God  so  early  that  he  could 
not  recollect  a  time  M-hcn  he  did  not  love  Him. 

— Churches  exist  in  this  world  to  remind  us  of  the  eter- 
nal laws  which  we  are  bound  to  obey.     So  far  as  they  do 


EXTRACTS   FROM   MY  DIARY.  Ill 

this,  they  answer  their  end,  and  are  honored  in  doing  so. 
It  would  have  been  better  for  all  of  us — it  would  be  better 
for  us  now,  could  churches  keep  this  their  peculiar  function 
steadily  and  singly  before  tliem.  Unfortunately,  they  have 
preferred  in  later  times  the  speculative  side  of  things  to  the 
practical. 

— There  is  a  tendency  in  men  to  corrupt  religion ;  to 
change  it  from  an  aid  and  incentive  to  a  holy  life,  into  a 
contrivance  to  enable  men  to  sin  without  fear  of  punish- 
ment. Obedience  to  God's  law  is  dispensed  with,  if  men 
will  diligently  profess  certain  opinions,  or  practically  take 
part  in  certain  rites.  However  scandalous  the  moral  life, 
the  profession  of  a  particular  belief,  or  attention  to  certain 
forms,  at  the  moment  of  death,  is  held  to  clear  the  soul. 

— It  would  be  easy  to  give  a  hundred  instances  of  doc- 
trines to  be  heard  in  sermons  and  found  in  religious  books, 
which  are  nowhere  taught  in  Scripture.  And  some  of  them 
ex^t  a  mighty  influence  for  evil  on  the  church  and  the  world. 
They  check  the  spread  of  Christianity.  They  strengthen 
the  cause  of  infidelity.  They  keep  people  away  from  Christ. 
They  make  an  all  but  impassable  gulf  between  the  church 
and  the  mass  of  humanity. 

— Some  think  they  would  not  have  enough  to  talk  about 
if  they  were  to  give  up  all  the  doctrines  or  notions  for  which 
I  say  there  is  no  scriptural  authority.  One  preacher  told 
me  I  had  already  spoiled  some  of  his  best  sermons.  He 
said  he  had  never  been  able  to  preach  them  with  comfort 
since  he  began  to  listen  to  my  conversation.  The  truth  is, 
preachers  will  never  know  what  great,  good  things  there 
are  to  be  talked  about,  till  they  get  rid  of  their  foolish  fan- 
cies. Nor  will  they  know  the  true  pleasure  of  talking  till 
they  come  to  feel  that  their  utterances  are  the  words  of  eter- 
nal truth.  And  so  far  will  they  be  from  not  having  enough 
to  talk  about,  that  if  they  give  themselves  in  a  Christian 
spirit,  to  study  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  they  will  never 
have  time  to  utter  a  tenth  of  the  blessed  things  that  will 
present  themselves  to  their  minds. 

A  hundred  years  would  not  afford  me  time  enough  to 
say  all  that  I  get  glimpses  of  on  religious  subjects  as  pre- 
sented in  nature  and  in  the  Scriptui'es.  Every  subject  I 
take  in  hand  requires  ten  times  more  time  to  do  it  justice 


112  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

than  is  generally  allowed  for  a  sermon.  And  the  subjects 
are  numberless.     We  live  in  an  infinite  universe  of  truth. 

"  I  rejoice,"  says  one,  "  that  I  have  been  led,  in  the  course 
of  God's  providence,  to  do  so  much  as  I  have  done,  to- 
wards purging  revelation  from  those  doctrines  and  practi- 
ces which  were  discordant  with  its  teachings,  and  prevented 
its  reception  with  many." 

Shall  I  ever  be  able  to  do  anything  in  this  way  ?  God 
help  me.  If  I  could  make  the  Church  and  the  ministry 
more  Christ-like,  and  more  powerful  for  good,  what  a 
blessing  it  would  be.  What  a  world  of  work  wants  doing, 
both  in  the  church  and  in  the  world.  Save  me  from  an 
impatient,  pugnacious,  disagreeable  spirit.  Perhaps  I  see 
the  needs  of  others  more  than  I  feel  my  own.  Perhaps  I 
am  in  danger  of  being  more  eager  for  reform  in  others,  than 
for  a  thoroughly  Christian  spirit  and  behavior  in  myself. 

How  many  words  and  phrases  one  hears  in  sermons 
and  in  prayers,  and  what  heaps  of  expressions  one  meets 
with  in  religious  works,  that  are  not  warranted  by  Scrip- 
ture or  common  sense ! 

— Some  of  the  words  and  phrases  that  are  more  frequent- 
ly used  by  Christians  than  any  other,  are  unscriptural  ones. 
Some  of  them  express  unscriptural  ideas.  Some  of  them 
are  names  of  things  that  have  no  existence.  Both  the 
words  and  the  ideas  for  which  they  stand  are  anti-christian. 
Many  of  the  things  said  from  the  pulpit  are  unintelligible. 
The  people  strain  their  minds  to  get  at  a  meaning,  but  to  no 
purpose.  It  is  Latin  or  Greek  to  them.  They  listen,  but 
do  not  learn.  They  hear  sounds,  but  catch  no  sense.  They 
reverence,  they  worship,  but  they  do  not  understand.  They 
believe,  they  feel,  that  there  are  great  spiritual  realities, 
but  they  are  not  made  clear  to  their  minds.  The  devouter 
portion  of  the  people  still  pray,  and  on  the  whole,  live  so- 
ber, righteous  and  godly  lives ;  but  multitudes  are  dis- 
couraged, and  take  themselves  away. 

"  The  hungry  sheep  look  up  and  are  not  fed." 

They  hear  words,  but  get  no  ideas.  Religion  does  not 
come  to  them  from  the  pulpit  as  a  reality.  It  does  not 
make  itself  felt  as  truth.     Books  and  lecturers  on  science 


EXTRACTS  FROM  MY  DIARY.  113 

.  treat  of  realities,  and  treat  of  them  in  words  that  can  be 
understood ;  but  many  books  on  religion,  and  many  preach- 
ers, seem  to  deal  only  in  words.  And  the  consequence  is, 
many  fancy  religion  is  a  delusion,  a  fanaticism,  a  dream. 
Others  believe  there  is  something  in  it,  btit  they  cannot 
conceive  what  it  is.  Yet  teachers  and  preachers  appear 
not  properly  to  understand  why  so  many  get  weary  of  ser- 
mons and  religious  books.  Let  them  talk  in  plain  good 
English,  and  say  nothing  but  what  has  some  great  Chris- 
tian reality  under  it,  and  sermons  and  religious  books  will 
be  the  most  popular  things  on  earth. 

— I  would  never  sacrifice  Christian  truth  to  conciliate 
the  world ;  but  I  would  sacrifice  everything  at  variance 
with  Christian  truth  ;  and  I  would  present  Christian  truth 
itself  in  as  intelligible  and  taking  a  form  as  possible. 

— The  antinomian  theology  has  had  a  terribly  corrupt- 
ing effect  on  many  members  of  churches.  I  meet  proofs 
of  it  every  day.  God  help  me  to  do  my  duty.  Some  of  my 
hearers  say  to  me,  '  We  come  to  church  to  be  comforted,  and 
not  to  be  continually  told  to  do,  do,  do.'  I  do  not  wish  peo- 
ple to  be  comforted  unless  they  will  do  their  duty;  and  they 
will  never  laek  comfort  if  they  do  do  it.  Comfort  is  for  those 
who  labor  to  comfort  and  benefit  others,  and  not  for  those 
who  care  only  for  themselves.  I  try  to  make  the  easy-going, 
indolent  and  selfish  professors  miserable:  and  in  some  cases 
I  succeed.  But  I  make  others  happy,  thank  God,  by  in- 
ducing them  to  give  themselves  heartily  to  Christian  work. 

— Here  are  a  few  more  good  words  from  Baxter :  '  Many 
proclaim  the  praise  of  truth  in  general,  but  reject  and  perse- 
cute its  various  portions.  The  name  of  truth  they  honor, 
but  the  truth  itself  they  despise.' 

'  Passion  is  a  great  seducer  of  the  understanding,  and 
strangely  blindeth  and  perverteth  the  judgment.' 

^  When  passion  hath  done  boiling  and  the  heart  is  cooled, 
and  leaveth  the  judgment  to  do  its  work  without  clamor 
and  disturbance^  it  is  strange  to  see  how  things  will  appear 
to  you  to  be  quite  of  another  tendency  than  in  your  frenzy 
you  esteemed  them.' 

'  Be  more  studious  to  hold  and  improve  those  common  truths 
which  all  profess,  than  to  oppose  the  particular  opinions  of 
any,  except  so  far  as  those  common  truths  require  you  to  do  so.' 
8 


114  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

'  Be  not  borne  down  by  the  ccnsoriousncss  of  any,  to  out- 
run your  own  undcr-standing  and  the  truth,  and  to  com])ly 
with  tliein  in  their  errors  and  extremes;  but  hold  to  the 
truth  and  keep  your  station.  '  Let  them  return  unto  thee, 
but  return  not  thou  unto  them.'  Jer.  xv.  ID.' 

'  Jielieve  notiiin<!;  that  eontradieteth  the  end  of  all  reli<»:ion. 
If  its  tendeney  be  against  a  holy  life,  it  eannot  be  truth.' 

'Plead  not  the  darker  texts  of  Seripture  against  those  that 
are  more  plain  and  elear,  nor  a  few  texts  against  many  that 
are  as  j>lain.  That  piussage  that  is  interpret(>d  against  the 
most  })lain  and  frc!(pi(uit  expressions  of  the  Scriptures  is  cer- 
tainly misinterpreted.' 

I  will  carry  out  these  principles  to  the  best  of  my  ability. 

— I  notice  that  Christ  never  tells  people  that  they  can- 
not repcMit  and  do  God's  will  without  divine  help.  He  did 
not  think  it  necessary  to  sui)i)]y  ])e()ple  with  excuses  for 
their  neglect  of  duty.  And  He  knew  that  divine  helj)  is 
never  withheld  from  any  man.  All  have  the  help  needed  to 
do  whatCJod  requires.  There  is  no  danger  of  any  man  trying 
to  do  anything  good  before  he  receives  power  from  God. 
God  Is  always  beforehand  with  men. 

— 1  have  had  a  troubled  night.  I  have  not  slept  sound- 
ly for  a  week.  1  have  had  odd  hours  of  sleep,  but  never  a 
quarter  of  a  night's  unbroken  rest.  Parties  will  talk  wltli 
me  about  religion,  and  I  am  foolish  enough  to  tjilk  with 
them,  yet  we  never  quite  agree.  They  insist  on  the  sacrcd- 
ness  of  every  old  notion  and  of  every  old  word  they  have 
received  from  their  teachers,  and  I  believe  in  the  sacre(biess 
of  nothing  but  Scripture  truth  and  conimon  sense.  They 
cannot  understaixl  me,  and  I  cannot  ac(x^j)t  their  nonsense. 
And  they  have  no  Idc^a  of  liberty  or  toleration.  They  allow 
no  excuse  for  not  being  sound  in  the  fiiith,  and  no  one  is 
sound  in  tlu^  faith  a('<^ording  to  their  notions  but  those  who 
agre(^  with  them.  Th(y  know  nothing  of  the  foundation  on 
wliich  the  Connexion  was  built.  They  know  nothing  of 
Wesley  :  nothing,  at  least,  of  liis  liberal  views.  The  fun- 
damental ])rinciples  of  the  Connexion  justify  me  in  my  free- 
dom of  inv(>stigation,  and  in  the  sentln\cnts  which  I  hold 
and  teach;  but  they  do  not  know  this.  They  know  nothing 
but  that  every  one  is  to  think  as  they  think,  and  lalk  as 
they  tidk.     Hence  they  keep  me  on  the  rack. 


TIRED   AND   SAD.  115 

I  am  tired.  I  feel  sad.  I  could  weep.  I  feel  as  if  I 
could  like  to  run  away,  like  Elijah,  and  hide  myself  in  the 
wilds  of  some  great  mountain.  But  no ;  I  must  stand  my 
ground,  and  do  my  duty.  Shall  truth  be  timid,  and  error 
bold?  Shall  folly  rage  and  be  confident, ^nd  wisdom  be 
afraid  to  whisper  ?  Help  me,  O  God,  to  do  my  duty  as  Thy 
servant,  and  as  the  minister  of  Thy  Gospel. 

— There  are  some  verses  of  hymns  that  are  sung  in  al- 
most all  religious  assemblies  that  have  nothing  answering 
to  them  in  Scripture.  John  Wesley  once  said,  that  the 
hymns  which  were  the  greatest  favorites  among  the  JNIeth- 
odists  were  the  worst  in  the  whole  Hymn  Book.  It  is  the 
same  still  I  fear,  to  some  extent.  Let  those  Avho  would 
like  to  know  to  what  words  and  hymns  we  refer,  take  them- 
selves to  task  for  a  time,  and  demand  Scriptural  authority 
for  every  word  and  expression  tliey  utter.  We  would  save 
them  the  trouble,  were  it  not  that  we  have  learned  that  in- 
struction from  others  is  of  no  use  to  people  who  do  not  en- 
deavor to  teach  themselves. 

But  take  a  sample  or  two.     I  cannot  sing  the  following : 

"  Forbid  it  Lord  that  I  should  boast 

Save  in  the  death  of  Christ  my  God." 

"  The  immortal  God  hath  died  for  me,"  &c. 

Jesus  died,  and  God  dwelt  in  Jesus,  but  God  did  not  die. 
Great  allowances  are  made  to  poets ;  but  they  should  not 
be  encouraged  to  write  impossibilities. 

"  A  heart  that  always  feels  Thy  blood,"  &c. 

I  feel  thankful  for  tlie  love  which  led  Jesus  to  die  for 
me;  but- 1  cannot  say  I  feel  the  blood.  I  feel  the  happy 
effects  of  the  death  or  blood-shedding  of  Jesus ;  and  per- 
haps that  is  what  the  poet  means. 

"  When  from  the  dust  of  death  I  rise. 
To  claim  my  mansion  in  the  skies. 
Even  then  this  shall  be  all  my  plea, 
Jesus  hath  lived  and  died  for  me." 


116  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

This  is  not  scriptural.  The  good  servant  in  the  parable  of 
the  talents  says  :  "  Lord,  Thou  deliveredst  unto  me  five 
talents :  behold,  I  have  gained  besides  them  five  talents 
more."  And  so  far  was  his  Lord  from  finding  fault  with 
his  plea,  that  he  answered,  "  Well  done,  good  and  faithful 
servant ;  thou  hast  been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I  will 
make  thee  ruler  over  many  things :  enter  thou  into  the  joy 
of  thy  Lord."  And  why  may  not  other  faithful  servants 
use  the  same  plea  ? 

John  makes  perfect  love,  or  likeness  to  Jesus,  the  ground 
of  confidence  or  boldness  in  the  day  of  judgment.  How 
strange  that  Christian  writers  should  be  so  ignorant  of  the 
Bible,  or  so  regardless  of  its  teachings.  Some  of  them 
seem  to  think  they  are  saying  very  fine  things  when  they 
are  talking  their  anti-Christian  nonsense.  Help  me,  O 
God,  to  speak  and  act  in  accordance  with  Thy  word. 

Fine  writing  may  be  a  fine  thing,  but  true  writing  is  a 
finer. 

I  suppose  it  is  as  hard  for  theologians  to  give  up  their 
anti-Christian  words  and  notions  as  it  is  for  drunkards  to 
give  up  their  drink.  But  it  would  be  well  for  them  to 
consider,  that  self-denial  may  be  as  necessary  to  their  sal- 
vation, as   it  is  to  the  salvation  of  infidels  and  profligates. 

I  would  sacrifice  a  little  poetry  to  truth.  .  I  would  not 
be  very  particular,  but  do  let  us  have  substantial  truth. 
Do  not  let  us  encumber  and  disfigure  religion  by  absurdi- 
ties, impossibilities,  and  antinomian  abominations. 

Some  one  has  said,  "  The  world  is  very  jealous  of  those 
who  assail  its  religious  ignorance.  Its  old  mistakes  are 
great  idols.  No  man  has  ever  carried  a  people  one  march 
nearer  the  promised  land  without  being  in  danger  of  being 
stoned.  No  man  has  ever  purified  the  life  of  an  age, 
without  substantially  laying  down  his  o\vn." 

I  am  anxious  only  for  truth  and  righteousness.  Truth 
and  righteousness  I  respect  in  all  sects,  from  the  Quakers 
to  the  Catholics ;  and  I  hate  nonsense,  and  lies,  and  sin, 
in  professing  Christians,  as  much  as  in  Turks  and  pagans. 

So  end   the  extracts  from  my  Diary. 

I  have  just  been  reading  an  article  in  the  Christian 
Advocate,  and  I  can't  resist  the  temptation  to  give  a  short 
extract  or  two. 


THE   REFORMING    TENDENCY.  117 

"Not  only  is  there  an  emasculated  theology,  but  there  is 
not  a  little  emasculated  preaching. 

"Nothing  is  emptier  or  feebler  than  cant — ringing  the 
changes  on  what  may  be  called  the  stock  phrases  of  one's 
sect.  John  Wesley  once  said,  'Let  but  a  -pert,  self-suffi- 
cient animal,  that  has  neither  sense  nor  grace,  bawl  out 
something  about  'Christ,'  or  'His  blood,'  or  'justification 
by  faith,'  and  there  are  not  wanting  those  who  will  cry  out, 
'  What  a  fine  Gospel  sermon !'  For  myself,  I  prefer  a  ser- 
mon on  either  good  tempers  or  good  works  to  such  '  Gospel 
sermons.' 

"  Take  away  from  certain  preachers  their  '  heavenly  tone,' 
as  the  old  lady  called  it — their  sing-song  cadences,  and  their 
favorite  pulpit  phrases — and  you  take  away  the  principal 
part  of  their  stock  in  trade.  Out  upon  such  '  words  with- 
out knowledge ' — sound  without  sense ! 

"  Quite  as  destitute  of  Gospel  power  is  that  preaching 
which  consists  largely  in  the  presentation  of  old  worn-out 
theories,  musty  scholastic  philosophies  about  religion,  usual- 
ly paraded  under  the  pretentious  title  of '  doctrine.' 

"The  devil,  it  is  said,  once  inspired  a  dead  priest  to 
preach  an  orthodox  sermon.  On  being  questioned  by  his 
imps  why  he  ventured  on  such  a  deliverance,  he  replied  very 
significantly,  that  nothing  made  infidels  more  efiectually 
than  orthodoxy  preached  by  dead  men's  lips." 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  REFORMING    TENDENCY. 

I  HAD  a  third  tendency  which  helped  to  get  me  into 
trouble ;  namely,  a  reforming  tendency.  Earnest  and  ac- 
tive-minded young  men  are  generally  reformers.  In  me 
the  reforming  tendency  was  unusually  strong.  I  wanted 
to  reform  everybody  and  everything,  and  to  do  it  thoroughly, 
and  without  delay.  And  I  commenced  operations  very 
early. 

1.  It  was  the  custom  of  my  class-leader  to  read  over  to  his 
class  once  a  quarter  the  rules  of  society,  and  to  request  the 


118  MODEEN    SKEPTICISM. 

members,  if  they  were  aware  of  any  breach  of  any  of  the 
rules  bv  auv  of  the  members,  to  name  the  matter  as  he  pro- 
ceeded.'    Now  one  of  the  rules  forbade  the  putting  on  of 
gold  or  costlv  apparel ;  yet  several  of  the  members  of  our 
class  put  on  both.     So  when  he  came  to  that  rule,  I  asked 
whv  it  was  not  enforced.     The  leader   seemed  confused. 
One  of  the  offenders  was  the  wife  of  one  of  the  travelling 
preachers,  and  another  was  the  wife  of  an  influential  lay- 
man, and  both  were  customers  at  his  store,  and  he  had  never 
entertained  a  thought,  I  imagine,  of  rimning  the  risk  of 
offending  them  by  rebuking  them  for  their  offences  ;  so  he 
muttered  something  in  the  way  of  excuse  and  then  passed 
on.     The  truth  was,  that  the  rule,  though  copied  from  the 
New  Testament,  and  regarded  by  Mr.  AVesley  as  of  great 
importance,  was  no  longer  considered  binding  either  by  the 
preachers  or  the  leading  members.    The  reading  of  the  rules 
in  the  class  was  merely  a  form,  and  my  remarks,  instead  of 
inducing   my  offending  class-mates   to   return  to  the  old 
Methodist  custom,  only  caused   them  and  those  who  sided 
with  them,  to  look  on  me  as  a  troubler  of  Israel. 

2.  I  got  mvself  into  a  little  trouble  on  a  later  occasion  at 
a  local  preachers'  meeting.  It  was  the  custom  at  those  meet- 
ings for  the  superintendent  preacher  to  read  over  the  names 
of  the  loail  preachers,  and  to  request  any  brother  who  knew 
of  anv  breach  of  rule  by  any  of  his  brethren,  to  name  the 
matter.  AVhen  the  name  of  Mr.  H.  was  read  over,  I  stated 
that  he  had  been  guilty  of  evil  speaking  against  one  of  his 
brethren.  I  gave  the  particulars,  and  the  offence  was  ac- 
knowledged, but  the  offending  brother  was  not  without  ex- 
cuse, and  the  business  of  the  meeting  proceeded.  But  there 
was  a  verv  strong  feeling  in  the  minds  of  many  that  such 
attempts  as  I  was  making  to  press  neglected  rules  on  the 
attention  of  the  meeting,  ought  not  to  be  encouraged ;  and 
my  endeavors  to  enforce  consistency  brought  down  upon  me 
many  sharp  rebukes. 

3.  Among  the  books  that  I  read  in  those  early  days  was 
Mason  on  Self-knowledge.  I  found  some  excellent  remarks 
on  temperance  and  frugality  in  this  work.  I  met  with 
some  similar  remarks  in  translating  portions  of  the  writings 
of  Seneca  and  Cicero.  In  a  conversation  that  I  had  with 
one  of  the  travelling  preachers,  and  a  person  that  was  sup- 


MEETS    WITH    DISCOURAGEMENTS.  119 

plying  the  place  of  another  travelling  preacher,  I  quoted 
the  beautiful  sentiments  which  I  had  been  reading  and 
translating,  and  added  some  remarks  of  my  own,  with  a 
view  to  recommend  attention  to  the  lessons  they  inculcated. 
The  travelling  preacher  remained  silent,  but*his  companion 
answered  me  with  a  scornful  laugh,  and  said,  there  was  no 
need  to  urge  such  matters  on  them,  for  they  had  not  the 
means  to  be  anything  else  but  frugal  and  temperate.  This 
was  neither  true  nor  courteous,  and  though  I  made  no  an- 
swer, it  left  an  impression  on  my  mind  by  no  means  favor- 
able to  the  wisdom  and  piety  of  those  who,  at  that  time, 
were  placed  over  me  as  my  teachers  and  guides. 

4.  Though  I  met  with  such  poor  encouragement  in  my 
early  efforts  to  reform  or  check  abuses  among  my  brethren,  I 
still  persisted  in  my  course,  even  after  I  became  a  travelling 
preacher.  It  was  the  custom  of  the  richer  members  of  so- 
ciety to  have  large  parties,  to  w^hich  they  invited  each  other 
and  the  preachers  and  their  families.  At  many  of  these 
parties  there  was  a  good  deal  of  drinking,  and  a  serious 
waste  of  money  on  many  things  that  were  not  only  useless 
but  injurious.  And  each  family  tried  to  outdo  the  rest  in 
the  costliness  of  their  parties.  I  regarded  this  custom  as 
anti-Christian,  and  tried  to  get  it  changed  for  something 
better.  I  thought  the  money  wasted  on  drink  and  hurtful 
luxuries  would  be  better  spent  in  doing  good.  In  some 
cases  I  referred  to  the  words  of  Christ  about  making  feasts, 
recorded  in  Luke  xiv.  12—14;  but  no  one  seemed  to  think 
Christ's  rule  to  be  binding  on  professing  Christians  now. 
Even  my  brother  ministers  thought  me  'needlessly  particu- 
lar, and  helped  to  render  my  efforts  for  reform  both  unsuc- 
cessful, and  productive  of  disagreeable  results. 

5.  The  custom  of  treating  the  rich  who  came  to  our  chap- 
els with  more  respect  than  the  poor,  was  as  prevalent  prol^a- 
bly  when  I  became  a  minister,  as  it  was  in  the  days  of  James. 
I  often  saw  the  officials  of  the  church  conducting  gaily- 
dressed  people  to  comfortable  pews,  while  they  left  such  as 
were  poorly  clad  to  stand  in  the  aisles,  or  to  find  their  way 
into  seats  themselves ;  and  on  some  occasions  I  showed  my 
dissatisfaction  with  such  proceedings. 

6.  It  was  customary  to  have  society  meetings  in  each 
place  once  a  quarter,  and  at  these  meetings  I  used  to  refer  to 


120  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

what  I  thought  amiss  in  the  conduct  of  professors,  and  to 
urge  attention  to  such  lessons  of  Christ  and  His  Apostles  as 
seemed  to  be  generally  overlooked  or  forgotten.  On  some 
occasions  too  on  week  nights,  instead  of  preaching  a  regu- 
lar sermon,  I  used  to  give  a  kind  of  lecture  or  exhortation, 
in  which  I  presented  a  summary  of  neglected  duties,  and 
read  over  the  passages  of  Scripture  in  which  they  were  en- 
joined, making  remarks  on  them.  There  were  many  mat- 
ters pertaining  to  marriage,  to  the  education  and  govern- 
ment of  children,  and  to  domestic  duties  generally ;  and 
there  were  matters  pertaining  to  trade,  to  social  intercourse, 
to  mental  improvement,  and  the  like,  on  which  preachers, 
as  a  rule,  were  entirely  silent  in  their  sermons,  from  the 
beginning  of  the  year  to  the  end.  Yet  many  of  these  mat- 
ters were  of  the  utmost  importance,  and  for  want  of  infor- 
mation on  them  many  religious  people  were  neither  so 
happy  themselves,  nor  so  useful  to  others,  as  they  ought  to 
be.  On  these  matters  I  spoke  in  as  plain  and  faithful  a 
way  as  possible.  I  cautioned  the  young  against  wasting 
their  time,  advised  them  to  spend  their  leisure  hours  in 
reading  and  writing,  told  them  what  books  to  read,  and 
how  to  read  them,  showed  them  the  most  profitable  plan 
of  reading  the  Bible,  warned  them  against  bad  company, 
and  advised  them  not  to  spend  too  much  time  even  in  good 
company.  I  urged  them,  if  they  thought  of  being  preachers, 
to  endeavor  to  be  preachers  of  the  highest  order,  workmen 
that  needed  not  to  be  ashamed,  rightly  distributing  the 
word  of  truth.  And  whether  they  thought  of  being  preach- 
ers or  not,  I  urged  them  to  improve  their  talents,  and  to 
become  as  wise,  as  able  and  as  useful  as  possible.  ^Many 
were  delighted,  and  reduced  my  lessons  to  practice.  Others 
however  took  offence,  and  repaid  my  endeavors  to  do  them 
good  with  uncharitable  censures. 

7.  It  was  the  custom  in  the  Body  to  which  I  belonged  to 
keep  the  doors  of  the  annual  conference  closed  against  all 
but  those  who  were  sent  as  delegates  by  the  circuits.  I  and 
a  few  others  thought  this  course  led  to  inconsiderate,  and, 
in  some  cases,  to  unjust  and  oppressive  measures,  and  in 
1835  I  wrote  a  letter  on  the  subject  to  the  Christian  Advo~ 
cate.  My  remarks  were  not  agreeable  to  the  leading  mem- 
bers of  conference,  and  I  was  instantly  called  to  account  and 


MEETS   WITH    DISCOURAGEMENTS.  121 

severely  censured,  and  threatened  with  the  heaviest  punish- 
ment if  ever  I  offended  so  grievously  again.  The  reason 
why  my  letter  proved  so  offensive  was  probably  its  truth- 
fulness, for  the  change  I  recommended  was  afterwards 
adopted,  though  not  till  the  old  objectionable  system  had 
produced  most  disastrous  consequences. 

8.  One  rule  of  the  Connexion  to  which  I  belonged  forbade 
the  preachers  to  marry  till  after  they  had  been  engaged  in 
the  ministry  from  four  to  five  years  or  upwards.  This  re- 
gulation seemed  to  me  to  be  the  cause  of  serious  evils. 
Some  of  these  evils  I  had  myself  experienced,  and  others  I 
had  seen  in  the  conduct  and  mishaps  of  many  of  my  bre- 
thren. The  reason  assigned  for  the  law  seemed  to  me  to 
be  not  only  insufficient,  but  to  be  a  disgrace  to  a  body  of 
Christians  situated  as  we  were.  I  urged  an  alteration  or  a 
repeal  of  the  law,  recommending  conference  to  take  out  the 
best  and  ablest  men  as  ministers,  whether  they  were  mar- 
ried or  not,  and  to  allow  such  ministers  as  were  single  to 
marry  whenever  they  thought  fit,  and  to  urge  the  churches 
to  provide  for  the  additional  expense  of  married  preachers 
by  a  little  additional  liberality.  There  were  members  that 
wasted  as  much  on  one  foolish  and  mischievous  party,  as 
would  have  made  up  the  difference  between  a  single  man's 
salary  and  a  married  man's  salary.  There  were  members 
that  spent  as  much  in  intoxicating  drinks  as  would  have 
kept  a  married  preacher  or  two  out  and  out.  There  were 
tradesmen  that  could  have  supported  five  or  six  preachers 
out  of  their  yearly  profits,  if  they  had  been  as  liberal  as  the 
old  selfish  Jews  were  required  to  be.  If  they  had  been  as 
liberal  as  Christians  are  required  to  be, — if  they  had  loved 
their  neighbors,  or  Jesus,  or  God,  as  they  loved  themselves, 
they  could  have  supported  twenty  preachers,  and  still  re- 
tained enough  to  keep  their  families  in  comfort  and  plenty, 
and  to  carry  on  and  extend  their  businesses  too.  To  shut 
good  men  out  of  the  ministry  because  they  were  married, 
and  take  in  doubtful  men  because  they  were  single,  was,  in 
my  view,  disgraceful  and  inexcusable.  But  in  this  also  I  was 
considered  wrong  by  the  rulers  of  the  Connexion,  and  was 
once  more  censured  and  admonished  for  what  was  consi- 
dered my  presumptuous  interference. 

9.  Fifty  years  ago,  and  for  some  years  after,  almost  every- 


122  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

body  used  to  drink  intoxicating  drinks.  Ale  and  beer, 
wine  and  spirits,  were  as  freely  used  as  tea  and  coffee,  and 
were  taken  in  great  quantities  by  many  even  in  the  church 
and  ministry.  I  remember  once,  while  yet  a  local  preacher, 
going  round  with  Mr.  Etchells,  a  new  minister  in  my  native 
town,  on  his  first  pastoral  visits,  to  show  him  where  the  prin- 
cipal members  of  the  church  lived.  He  was  invited  to  drink 
at  every  house,  and  never  failed  to  comply  with  the  invita- 
tions. I  saw  him  drink  sixteen  glasses  of  beer,  wine  and 
spirits,  on  that  one  round,  occupying  only  two  or  three  hours. 
This  same  minister  prosecuted  Mr.  Farrar,  his  superintend- 
ent, for  drunkenness,  and  got  him  suspended.  Whether  his 
superintendent  drank  more  than  he  or  not,  I  do  not  know, 
but  he  did  not  keep  up  appearances  so  well.  He  showed 
himself  drunk  in  the  puljiit, — so  drunk,  on  one  or  two  oc- 
casions, that  he  was  unable  to  speak  plainly,  or  even  to  stand 
steadily.  He  also  fell  down  in  the  streets  sometimes,  and 
had  to  be  carried  home.  His  colleague  did  not  commit 
himself  in  such  ways,  though  he  drank  enough  at  times  in 
one  day  to  make  half  a  dozen  sober  people  drunk. 

The  leading  member  in  the  Methodist  church,  Richard 
Wilson,  opened  the  first  wine  and  spirit  store  at  Bramley, 
and  corrupted  the  whole  country  round  with  his  wares, 
doing  far  more  for  the  devil  and  sin  than  the  preachers 
could  do  for  God  and  holiness.  Yet  no  one  seemed  to  think 
there  was  anything  dishonorable  or  diabolical  in  the  busi- 
ness. 

At  a  social  party  to  which  I  was  invited  at  Leeds,  con- 
sisting of  preachers  and  leading  members  of  the  church, 
one  man,  a  jireacher,  got  so  drunk,  that  he  became  a  most 
distressing  spectacle.  I  cannot  describe  his  mishaps.  There 
were  others  wlio  ought  to  have  committed  themselves  in 
the  same  sad  way,  for  they  drank  as  much,  and  even  more, 
but  they  had  stronger  constitutions,  or  were  better  seasoned. 

At  Liverpool,  my  first  station,  every  one  on  whom  the 
preachers  called  in  their  pastoral  rounds,  asked  them  to 
drink.  Even  Dr.  Raffles,  the  popular  Congregational  min- 
ister, had  wine  and  cakes  brought  out,  when  I  and  my 
superintendent  called  on  him  one  morning.  Wine  and 
cakes,  or  cakes  and  spirits,  were  placed  on  the  table 
by  all  who  were  not  too  poor  to  buy  such   things,  and 


GREAT  NEED  OP  EEFORM.  123 

even  the  poorer  members  contrived  to  supply  themselves 
with  rum  or  whisky.  And  all  expected  the  preach- 
ers to  drink.  And  the  preachers  did  drink.  Mr.  Allin, 
my  superintendent,  was  not  by  far  the  greatest  drinker  in 
the  Connexion,  yet  he  seldom  allowed  the  poisftn  placed  be- 
fore him  to  remain  untasted.  I  was  so  organized,  that  I 
never  could  drink  a  full  glass  of  either  wine  or  ale  without 
feeling  more  or  less  intoxicated,  and  for  spirits  I  had  quite 
a  distaste ;  so  that  I  was  obliged  to  take  intoxicating  drinks 
very  sparingly.  Yet  I  conformed,  to  some  extent,  to  the 
prevailing  custom ;  and  it  was  not,  I  fear,  through  any 
great  goodness  of  ray  own,  that  I  did  not  become  a  drunkard. 
Several  of  my  fellow-ministers  became  drunkards.  Mr. 
Allin  himself,  after  he  fell  under  the  influence  of  that  bad 
rich  man  at  Sheffield  became  a  drunkard,  and  brought  on 
shocks  of  paralysis  by  his  excesses.  My  spperintendent  at 
Sheffield  drank  himself  into  delirium  tremens,  and  I  fear 
he  never  got  over  his  bad  habits.  Mr.  Chapman  was  a 
notorious  sot.  I  knew  him  personally,  and  was  compelled, 
at  times,  to  witness  his  disgusting  habits.  Yet  he  was 
never  expelled,  though  he  was  superannuated  some  forty 
years  or  more  before  his  death.  His  superannuation  re- 
duced his  income  some  seventy-five  per  cent.,  and  made  it 
impossible  for  him  to  drink  so  freely  as  he  had  been  wont, 
and  so,  very  probably,  helped  to  prolong  his  miserable  life. 
While  stationed  at  Liverpool,  I  was  called  away  to  supply 
the  place  of  the  superintendent  preacher  in  the  Chester  cir- 
cuit for  a  few  weeks,  who  had  died  very  suddenly,  under 
very  peculiar  circumstances.  His  name  was  Dunkerley.  I 
was  told  by  persons  likely  to  know  the  truth,  that  he  was  a 
very  drunken  man.  On  one  occasion,  while  he  was  over 
at  Liverpool,  he  fell  down  in  the  Theatre  Square,  and  had 
to  be  taken  up  and  carried  into  a  neighboring  shop.  At  first 
it  was  supposed  he  had  had  a  fit ;  but  a  little  further  atten- 
tion to  the  case  revealed  the  secret  that  he  was  drunk.  On 
another  occasion,  on  his  return  from  Liverpool  to  Chester, 
he  was  observed,  when  he  got  off  the  coach,  to  stagger  back- 
wards and  fill  down.  Some  friends  that  were  waiting  for 
his  arrival,  ran  and  helped  him  up,  and  took  him  to  a  mem- 
ber's house  just  by.  He  was  found  to  be  drunk  then  also. 
The  members  spoke  to  him  on  the  subject,  and  reproved 


124  MODERN    SKEPTICISM. 

him  sharply,  and  then  put  him  to  bed.  The  Tuesday  night 
following,  the  matter  was  mentioned  at  the  leaders'  meet- 
ing, when  he  was  present.  The  leaders  told  him  that  such 
conduct  could  not  be  tolerated,  and  that  unless  a  change 
took  place  for  the  better,  the  matter  would  have  to  be  laid 
before  the  Quarterly  Meeting.  The  preacher  acknowledged 
his  fault,  and  promised,  if  they  would  forgive  him  that  once, 
that  he  would  do  so  no  more.  I  believe  that  from  that  time 
he  gave  up  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks  for  a  week  or  two; 
but  shortly  after,  having  to  go  to  the  Welsh  side  of  the  Cir- 
cuit, he  began  to  use  them  again.  At  one  of  the  places  on 
that  side  of  the  Circuit,  the  leaders  were  accustomed  to  have 
their  meetings  in  a  room  in  a  public-house,  near  the  Chapel, 
and  to  lodge  the  preacher  there.  Perhaps  poor  Dunkerley 
thought  it  would  hardly  look  right  for  him  to  be  accommo- 
dated at  a  public-house  with  a  bed,  and  yet  take  nothing 
to  drink  ;  so  he  got  some  gin.  The  relish  for  the  gin  must 
have  returned  upon  him  with  great  power  when  he  began 
to  taste  it,  for  he  drank  very  freely.  He  drank  so  much, 
that  the  publican  himself  began  to  feel  alarmed  for  him. 
A  short  time  after  he  had  gone  up  stairs  to  bed,  the  people  of 
the  house  heard  a  noise  of  an  unusual  character  in  his  room, 
and  on  going  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  they  found  the 
preacher  on  his  knees,  in  an  apoplectic  fit,  the  blood  gush- 
ing from  his  nose  and  ears.  He  died  the  same  evening. 
He  died  drunk. 

It  was  this  man's  place  that  I  went  to  supply.  I  do  not 
wonder  now  that  Dunkerley  and  several  other  ]>reachers  in 
the  New  Connexion  were  drunkards,  when  I  take  into  con- 
sideration the  customs  and  habits  of  the  people  of  the  Con- 
nexion in  those  days.  I  never  met  with  anything  in  any 
society,  that  I  recollect,  more  at  variance  with  the  princi- 
ples of  Christian  temperance,  and  more  likely  to  lead  both 
preachers  and  ]>eople  into  drunkenness  and  profligacy,  than 
the  habits  and  customs  of  many  of  the  members  of  the  New 
Connexion  in  the  Chester  circuit.  In  the  first  j)lace  they 
were  all  users  of  intoxicating  drinks,  and  all  those  that  were 
in  tolerable  circumstances  regularly  kept  spirits  as  well  as 
milder,  weaker  kinds  of  intoxicating  drinks  in  their  houses. 
In  the  next  j)lacc  a  preacher  could  never  call  at  the  houses 
of  those  people,  whatever  the  time  of  day,  without  being 


TEMPERANCE  EEFORM  NEEDED.         125 

urged  to  drink  of  either  the  stronger  or  weaker  kinds  of 
intoxicating  drinks.  And  he  could  hardly  refuse  to  drink 
without  seeming  to  slight  the  kindness  ofihe  people,  and 
running  the  risk  of  giving  oifence.  In  the  third  place  they 
were  very  much  addicted  to  extravagant  social  parties,  plea- 
sure jaunts,  &c.  They  were  worse  than  the  people  of  Leeds 
in  this  respect ;  unless  they  were  worse  than  usual  while  I 
was  there.  All  the  time  that  I  was  in  Chester,  there  was 
not  a  single  week  or  day  when  they  had  not  either  some 
dinner-party  or  tea-party,  or  both,  or  else  some  pleasure 
jaunt  on  the  water  or  on  land.  And  those  pleasure  parties 
and  feasts  were  always  occasions  of  extravagant  eating  and 
drinking.  Besides  abundance  of  flesh  and  game,  and  other 
luxuries,  there  was  always  an  overv/helming  supply  of  in- 
toxicating drinks,  and  great  quantities  were  consumed.  I 
have  seen  men  on  those  occasions  drink  five,  six,  eight,  or 
even  ten  glasses  of  wine  or  spirits,  besides  drinking  ale,  or 
porter,  or  wine  at  meals.  I  recollect  very  distinctly  seeing  a 
person,  and  that  a  preacher,  drink,  in  addition  to  what  he 
consumed  over  his  meal,  ten  glasses  of  Port  wine  between 
dinner  and  tea,  after  which  he  went  to  preach. 

Religious  society  was  not  quite  so  corrupt  in  the  princi- 
pal towns  of  the  Hanley  circuit,  where  I  was  next  stationed, 
as  at  Liverpool  and  Chester,  yet  there  was  a  fearful  amount 
of  respectable  intemperance  there.  There  was  no  end  to 
the  feasting.  And  as  I,  though  so  young,  was  very  popu- 
lar, J  was  always  expected  to  be  present.  The  luxuries  in 
which  I  indulged  brought  on  indigestion.  Indigestion,  and 
close  study,  and  hard  work  in  the  pulpit,  brought  on  a 
most  wearisome  languor  and  depression.  To  help  me,  one 
rich  friend  sent  me  a  bottle  of  Sherry  wine.  Another  sent 
me  Elderberry  wine.  These  made  me  worse.  It  was  well 
this  mistaken  kindness  did  not  ruin  me.  But  I  was  pre- 
served, thank  God,  both  from  death  and  drunkenness. 

For  two  years  more  I  was  in  the  midst  of  these  awful 
temptations  to  intemperance,  and  a  witness  to  their  deadly 
effects  on  several  of  my  brethren.  I  felt  that  I  was  in  dan- 
ger. And  I  saw  that  the  church  was  suffering.  I  looked 
round  for  a  remedy. 

Just  then  there  came  rumors  of  a  temperance  society,  and 
of  attempts  at  a  temperance  reformation.     One  of  our^'ouug 


126  MODEEX    SKEPTICISM. 

preachers  had  joined  this  new  society,  and  had  labelled  his 
whisky  and  brandy  medicine.  He  left  his  beer,  and  porter, 
and  wine,  wwlabelled,  and  drank  them  as  freely  as  before. 
The  people  who  told  me  of  this,  ridiculed  the  man,  and  rid- 
iculed the  movement  for  temperance  reform.  1  was  rather' 
pleased  with  the  news,  though  news  of  a  more  thorough 
movement  might  have  pleased  me  better.  But  the  begin- 
nings of  things  are  small.  The  movement  soon  became 
radical  enough,  and  I  kept  pace  with  it. 

In  1832  I  gave  up  the  use  of  ardent  spirits,  and  be- 
came a  member  of  the  old-fashioned  temperance  society.  In 
1833  I  gave  up  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks  of  all  kinds, 
and  joined  the  teetotal  society.  In  1834  I  gave  up  the  use 
of  tobacco.  A  few  months  later  I  gave  up  tea  and  coffee, 
and  took  water  as  my  usual  drink. 

These  changes  in  my  way  of  life  gave  great  offence  to 
many  in  the  church  to  which  I  belonged,  and  led  them  to 
speak  of  me,  and  act  towards  me,  in  a  way  that  was  any- 
thing but  kind  and  agreeable.  This  was  especially  the 
case  with  regard  to  my  disuse  of  intoxicating  drinks,  and 
my  advocacy  of  teetotalism. .  I  might  have  been  borne  with 
perhaps  if  I  had  become  a  drunkard  ;  for  drunkards  were 
in  some  cases  tolerated ;  but  a  teetotaler  was  not  to  be  en- 
dured. Some  called  me  a  fool,  and  some  a  madman,  and 
one  man  pronounced  me  no  better  than  a  suicide  and  a  mur- 
derer. "  You  will  be  dead,"  said  he,  "  in  twelve  months, 
if  you  persist  in  your  miserable  course,  and  what  will  be- 
come of  your  wife  and  children?  And  what  account  can 
you  give  of  the  people  you  are  leading  to  untimely  death 
by  your  example  ?"  One  person  at  Chester,  at  whose  house 
I  had  visited  some  years  before,  when  supplying  the  place  of 
the  deceased  minister,  would  neither  invite  me  to  his  house, 
nor  speak  to  me  in  the  street,  except  in  the  way  of  insult, 
now  that  I  had  become  a  teetotaler.  He  said  no  one 
should  ever  sit  at  his  table  who  would  not  take  a  glass  of 
wine.  And  I  never  did  sit  at  his  table  after.  He  invited 
my  colleagues,  and  he  invited  the  old  superannuated  minis- 
ter, whose  character  I  cannot  describe,  but  he  never  invited 
me. 

One  object  that  I  had  in  view  in  adopting  my  abstemious 
way  o£  life  was  to  save  a  little  money  to  buy  books.  I  had  be- 


teetotalers'  eeform.  127 

come  an  author  too,  and  had  thoughts  of  publishing  a  num- 
ber of  works,  and  I  wanted  to  be  able  to  do  so  without 
having  to  go  into  debt.  Then  I  wanted  to^o  good  in  other 
ways.  I  liked  to  be  able  to  give  a  little  to  the  distressed 
and  needy  that  I  was  called  upon  to  visit.  And  I  liked  to 
subscribe  occasionally  to  funds  for  the  erection  of  new 
schools  and  chapels  in  circuits  where  I  was  stationed. 
Among  my  reasons  for  becoming  a  teetotaler  was  a  desire 
to  induce  others  to  do  so,  who  seemed  to  me  to  be  likely, 
if  they  continued  to  use  intoxicating  drinks,  to  become 
drunkards.  Then  I  had  seen  the  terrible  effects  of  the 
drinking  system,  both  in  the  Church  and  among  my  rela- 
tions. And  I  was  anxious  for  the  success  of  every  kind  of 
measure  that  seemed  likely  to  promote  the  reformation  and 
salvation  of  mankind. 

10.  I  had  not  been  a  teetotaler  long  before  I  became  anx- 
ious to  see  my  brethren  in  the  ministry  teetotalers.  I  wrote 
a  letter  to  the  Temperance  Advocate,  giving  an  account  of  the 
experiment  I  had  made,  and  stating  the  happy  results  by 
which  it  had  been  followed,  and  urging  others,  by  all  the 
considerations  that  had  influenced  my  own  mind,  to  adopt 
and  advocate  the  teetotal  principle.  Mr.  Livesey  sent  a 
copy  of  the  Advocate  containing  my  letter  to  all  the  minis- 
ters of  the  Body  to  which  I  belonged.  There  were  but  few 
of  them  however  who  seemed  to  be  able  to  enter  into  my 
views  and  feelings,  or  to  understand  and  appreciate  the 
motives  by  which  I  was  actuated.  The  generality  looked 
on  the  course  I  had  taken  as  a  proof  of  a  restless  and  ill- 
regulated  mind,  and  instead,  of  following  my  example, 
treated  me  and  my  teetotalism  with  ridicule.  Some  were 
angry,  and  scolded  me  in  right  good  earnest.  They  sup- 
posed that  it  was  /  that  had  sent  them  the  Paper  containing 
my  letter,  and  seemed  to  think  themselves  called  upon  to ' 
resent  my  interference  with  their  tastes  and  habits  in  a- very 
decided  manner.  Several  of  them  sent  me  very  offensive 
letters,  and  one  of  them  concluded  a  long  outpouring  of 
abuse  and  insolence  with  some  very  cutting  but  just  re- 
marks on  my  inconsistency  in  pressing  abstinence  from  in- 
toxicating drinks  so  earnestly  on  others,  while  I  myself 
was  guilty  of  the  unreasonable  and  offensive  practice  of 
smoking  tobacco. 


128  MODERN   SKEPTICISM. 

I  had  long  had  misgivings  as  to  the  propriety  of  smoking, 
and  when  I  read  this  cutting  rebuke,  I  resolved  to  smoke 
no  more.  I  said  to  my  wife,  "  They  shall  not  be  able  to 
charge  me  with  inconsistency  again  on  that  score,", and  I 
there  and  then  broke  my  pipe  on  the  grate,  and  emptied 
my  tobacco  cup  into  the  fire,  and  I  have  never  annoyed 
others,  or  defiled  myself,  with  the  abomination  of  tobacco 
smoke  or  tobacco  spittle  from  that  day  to  this.  My  angry 
correspondent  had  done  me  an  important  service. 

11.  I  met  with  some  of  the  bitterest  and  most  persistent 
enemies  of  teetotalism  in  the  circuit  in  which  I  was  then  tra- 
velling. There  were  several  members  of  society,  class-leaders, 
and  local  preachers,  in  and  around  Chester,  Nvho  were  slaves 
to  intoxicating  drinks.  Some  of  them  were  habitual  drunk- 
ards, and  others  of  them  were  not  much  better ;  and  they 
treated  all  who  would  not  countenance  their  excesses  as 
personal  enemies.  Many  of  them  Avere  accustomed  to  go 
to  public  houses,  and  sit  there  drinking  and  smoking  for 
hours  together,  like  ordinary  drunkards.  This  horrible  ha- 
bit they  gave  up  shortly  after  my  appointment  to  the  cir- 
cuit, but  several  of  them  raged  against  me  with  tremendous 
fury,  and  would  have  done  anything  to  destroy  my  in- 
fluence. At  first  they  were  kept  in  check  to  some  ex- 
tent by  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  my  superintendent, 
who,  though  he  did  not  become  a  teetotaler  himself, 
showed  great  respect  for  those  who  did.  "When  he  left 
Chester,  a  man  of  a  very  different  character  came  in  his 
place,  who  sided  with  the  drinkers,  and  took  a  savage  de- 
light in  annoying  the  teetotalers,  and  exulted  as  if  he  had 
achieved  some  wonder  of  benevolence  and  piety  when  he 
had  induced  some  poor  reformed  drunkard  to  break  his 
pledge,  thougli  he  plunged  again  into  the  horrors  of  intem- 
perance. I  called  one  forenoon  on  Mr.  Downs.  He  was 
frantic,  and  his  wife  was  wild  with  anxiety  and  terror.  She 
seemed  as  if  she  had  been  awake  and  weeping  all  the  night. 
I  soon  saw  the  cause  of  the  dreadful  spectacle.  Downs  had 
been  a  drunkard,  but  had,  under  my  influence,  become  a 
teetotaler,  and  joined  the  church.  His  wife  had  been  a 
member  of  the  church  for  some  years.  She  was  overjoyed 
with  the  reformation  and  conversion  of  her  husband,  and 
was  promising  for  herself  and  her  husband,  for  the  future, 


MINISTERS    HELPING    THE    DEVIL.  129 

a  very  happy  life.  My  superintendent  had  got  poor  Downs 
into  his  company,  and  by  reasoning,  ridicule,  and  coaxing, 
had  induced  hiin  to  take  a  glass  of  ale.  His  horrible  ap- 
petite for  intoxicating  drink  returned  with  irresistible  force, 
and  he  drank  himself  drunk.  He  went  home  in  a  very  de- 
plorable condition.  His  wife,  distressed  beyond  measure, 
got  him  to  bed,  and  he  fell  asleep,  and  she,  poor  woman, 
sat  watching  him,  and  weeping,  hoping  he  might  wake  to 
lament  his  error  and  become  again  a  sober  man.  He  awoke 
in  a  fury,  and  attempted  to  destroy  himself.  He  was  mad 
with  shame  and  horror,  and  declared  he  could  not  and 
would  not  live.  When  I  entered,  his  wife  had  been  watch- 
ing him  and  struggling  with  him  for  several  hours,  to  keep 
him  from  suicide.  I  just  got  in  in  time  to  save  the  man, 
and  relieve  his  exhausted  wife,  and  I  was  enabled  to  recon- 
cile the  man  to  live  a  little  longer,  and  try  teetotalism  again. 
My  misguided  superintendent  never  attempted  to  reason 
with  me,  but  when  he  thought  he  had  a  chance  of  punish- 
ing me  for  my  teetotalism,  he  snatched  at  the  aj^pareut 
opportunity  with  the  greatest  eagerness. 

One  week  night,  when  appointed  to  preach  in  Chester 
Chapel,  I  gave  the  people  a  sermon  on  temperance.  Some 
days  after,  1  was  summoned  to  a  meeting  of  officials,  to  give 
an  account  of  my  doings.  I  attended.  My  superintendent, 
the  bitter  enemy  of  teetotalism,  was  in  the  chair,  and  on 
each  side  of  him  sat  a  number  of  men  of  similar  feelings, 
and  of  grosser  habits.  I  was  told  there  was  a  complaint 
against  me,  to  the  effect  that  the  last  time  I  was  at  Chester 
I  had  preached  teetotalism  instead  of  the  Gospel.  I  said, 
"  Is  that  all  ?"  And  they  answered  "  Yes."  "  Then  you 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourselves,"  I  said,  and  left  the 
meeting.  What  they  did  after  my  departure  I  was  never 
told. 

One  man  in  that  neighborhood  circulated  a  report  that  I 
had  asked  my  mother-in-law,  who  had  been  staying  some 
time  at  our  house,  to  have  a  glass  of  brandy  and  water, 
when  she  was  leaving  for  home  in  the  coach.  This  slander 
was  refuted  by  a  deputation,  who  at  once  visited  my  moth- 
er-in-law, and  brought  back  from  her  a  flat  contradiction 
of  the  statement. 

I  ought  to  say,  that  while  I  was  in  this  circuit,  hua- 
9 


130  MODERN  SKEPTICISM. 

dreds  of  drunkards  were  reformed,  many  of  whom  became 
liappy,  exemplary,  and  useful  members  of  the  Church.  I 
was  the  means  of  tens  of  thousands  becoming  teetotalers 
in  the  country  round  about,  and  the  happy  eifects  of  my 
labors  in  those  regions  remain,  to  some  extent,  to  the  pre- 
sent day. 

12.  In  1837,  while  I  was  stationed  in  the  Mossley  Circuit, 
I  began  a  weekly  periodical  called  the  Evangelical  Refwrner. 
I  had  long  wished  for  a  suitable  means  of  laying  my  views 
before  my  friends,  but  had  found  none.  The  editor  of  the 
magazine  published  by  the  Body  to  which  I  belonged  was 
a  very  disagreeable  man,  and  to  me  he  was  more  unaccom- 
modating and  offensive  than  to  others.  He  would  have 
published  articles  under  my  name,  but  not  till  he  had  al- 
tered them,  and  made  them  conformable  to  his  own  ideas 
and  tastes.  And  this  was  more  than  I  could  endure. 
There  was  another  periodical  which  I  could  use,  and  had  used 
occasionally,  but  it  lent  itself  to  ill-disposed  people  as  a  vehi- 
cle of  slander,  and  I  had  ceased  to  feel  myself  at  liberty  to 
give  it  my  countenance.  With  a  small  periodical  of  my 
own  I  could  communicate  with  my  friends  at  pleasure,  and 
I  used  my  Evangelical  Reformer  for  this  purpose  with  great 
freedom.  I  published  my  views  on  temperance,  on  mar- 
riage, on  trade,  on  education,  on  dress,  on  diet,  on  religious 
parties,  on  books  and  reading,  on  the  use  of  money,  on  the 
duty  of  the  Church  to  support  its  poor  members,  on  tol- 
eration and  human  creeds,  and  on  a  multitude  of  other  sub- 
jects, and  urged  on  the  churches  a  reform  on  all  these  points. 
My  freedom  of  expression  soon  brought  me  into  fresh  trou- 
ble. An  article  which  I  published  on  "  Toleration  and  Hu-> 
man  Creeds,"  was  considered  by  some  of  my  brethren  to  be 
highly  objectionable  and  dangerous,  and  was  brought  before 
Conference.  Conference  was -pressed  by  many  to  condemn 
the  article,  and  to  show  its  disapprobation  of  it  by  i)unishing 
the  author.  Others  entreated  that  Conference  should  spare 
the  author,  lest  mischief  should  follow,  and  content  itself  with 
privately  expressing  disapprobation  of  the  article.  The  lat- 
ter parties  jirevailed ;  but  their  moderation  was  made  of  no 
effect  by  the  editor  of  the  magazine  who  wickedly  j)ublished 
tlie  obnoxious  resolution  to  the  world,  and  so  rendered  it 
necessary  for  me  to  write  again  on  the  subject,  to  defend 


CAPTIOUS   CRITICS.  131 

myself  and  my  article.  The  result  was  a  controversy  be- 
tween me  and  some  of  my  brethren^  wlii^  led  at  length  to 
the  most  serious  consequences. 

Another  article  was  objected  to  by  many  of  my  brother 
ministers.  A  draper,  a  leading  member  of  the  society  at 
Ashton,  published  a  circular,  announcing  the  winter  fash- 
ions, and  sent  copies  to  members  of  my  congregation,  press- 
ing them  to  go  and  purchase  his  wares,  many  of  which  were 
both  costly  and  useless.  I  copied  this  circular  into  my  pe- 
riodical, and  advised  my  readers  to  disregard  its  counsels, 
and  to  spend  their  money  like  Christians.  I  added  some 
remarks  on  the  inconsistency  of  professing  Christians  urg- 
ing people,  even  in  the  way  of  trade,  to  waste  their  Master's 
money  on  things  forbidden  by  His  word.  This  article  cre- 
ated a  great  amount  of  excitement,  and  some  would  fain 
have  had  it  censured  by  Conference,  along  with  the  other 
article  ;  but  they  were  not  allowed  to  have  their  way. 

Both  my  periodical  and  my  other  publications  were  fa- 
vorably received,  and  had  a  large  circulation,  and  my  op- 
ponents thought  they  gave  me  too  much  power,  and  made 
me  dangerous ;  and  this  became  the  occasion  of  further  un- 
pleasantness. On  the  other  hand  the  magazine  had  but  a 
poor  circulation,  and  the  Book-room,  though  it  had  a  large 
amount  of  capital,  did  but  a  very  limited  business ;  and  I 
suggested  reforms  with  a  view  to  render  them  more  useful. 
I  urged  an  improvement  of  the  magazine,  and  the  publica- 
tion of  cheap  books,  with  a  view  to  supply  useful  reading 
to  the  members  of  the  churches,  and  to  people  generally. 
All  these  propositions  proved  unpalatable  to  the  easy-going 
officials,  and  brought  on  me  fresh  trials. 

13.  Again;  the  standard  of  morality  was  low  in  many  of 
our  societies,  and  I  pleaded  for  the  enforcement  of  Christian 
discipline.  Some  of  our  metnbers  were  brewers,  some  pub- 
licans, some  spirit-merchants,  some  beer-shop  keepers.  Old 
Mr.  Thwaites  was  a  publican.  His  son,  who  was  both 
class-leader  and  local  preacher,  was  both  a  drink-seller  and 
a  pawnbroker.  And  I  am  not  certain  that  pawnbroking 
in  England  is  not  as  bad  a  business  as  drink-selling.  The 
two  are  nearly  related  and  are  fast  friends.  Drunkenness 
leads  to  pawnbroking,  and  pawnbroking  helps  drunkenness. 
Timothy  Bentley,  one  of  the  greatest  brewers  in  England, 


132  THE  REFORMING  TENDENCY. 

the  poisoner-general  both  of  the  souls  and  bodies  of  the 
immense  population  of  my  native  county,  was  a  Methodist 
class-leader  at  Huddersfield.  I  once  met  in  his  class.  He 
was  a  most  venerable  and  saintly-looking  man,  and  stood 
in  high  repute.  I  regarded  these  businesses  as  anti-chris- 
tian,  and  contended  that  those  who  persisted  in  them  after 
due  admonition,  should  be  expelled. 

The  businesses  named  above  w^ere  not  the  worst.  Some 
members  of  society  were  wholesale  panders.  Take  the  fol- 
lowdng  facts.  When  I  was  sent  to  Liverpool  I  had  a  young 
man,  whose  name  I  need  not  give,  for  a  bed-fellow.  He 
was  a  draper,  and  his  customers  were  unfortunate  w^omen. 
He  sold  to  them  on  trust,  and  went  round  weekly  to  collect 
his  money.  His  father,  who  w^as  a  leading  man  in  the  so- 
ciety, and  his  brothers,  were  in  the  same  way  of  business. 
Another  man  who  was  a  leading  member  and  an  official, 
followed  the  same  dishonorable  occupation.  It  was  usual 
with  those  people,  when  their  wretched  customers  were 
turned  out  of  their  houses  by  their  landlords,  to  provide 
them  with  fresh  houses,  and  even  to  supply  them  with  fur- 
niture. When  fairs  or  races  were  at  hand,  they  supplied 
them  with  extra  dresses  and  ornaments,  to  enable  them  to 
ply  their  horrible  trade  to  better  advantage.  These  facts  I 
had  in  part  from  my  bed-fellow,  and  in  part  from  the  peo- 
ple in  whose  house  he  kept  his  shop,  and  with  whom  I  lived. 
When  I  came  to  know  these  things  I  was  very  uneasy ;  and 
on  finding  that  it  was  unsafe  to  sleep  with  my  bed-fellow,  I 
got  fresh  lodgings.  This  vexed  my  bed-fellow  and  all  his 
family,  and  made  them  my  enemies.  I  spoke  of  these 
things  to  my  superintendent,  but  he  advised  me  to  be  cau- 
tious what  I  did  and  said  in  reference  to  such  matters.  And 
he  told  me  a  story  that  he  had  met  wath  in  a  work  on  the 
ministry  by  an  American,  which  he  had  just  been  reading. 
This  author  said,  that  out  of  fifty  ministers  whom  he  had 
known  expelled  from  their  holy  office,  only  one  or  two  had 
been  expelled  for  immoral  conduct  or  gross  inconsistency : 
all  the  rest  had  been  discarded  on  account  of  imprudences. 
This  was  meant  to  deter  me  from  interfering  either  by  word 
or  deed  with  faulty  members  of  society.  And  he  backed 
his  ungodly  counsel  by  as  bad  an  example.  For  he  not 
only  left  those  wicked  people  to  pursue  their  evil  courses 


NEED  OF  REFORM.   ABUSES.  133 

undisturbed,  but  visited  at  their  houses,  allowed  his  family 
to  receive  presents  from  them,  and,  whjgn  he  was  leaving 
the  circuit,  did  himself  accept  from  their  unclean  hands  a 
portion  of  their  filthy  gains,  in  the  shape  of  a  testimonial  of 
their  respect  for  his  great  abilities  and  distinguished  virtues. 
This  person,  whose  general  conduct  was  much  in  keeping 
with  the  facts  I  have  given  above,  though  he  was  the  fore- 
most minister  in  the  Connexion,  proved  my  most  persistent 
adversary  in  after  life,  and  never  rested  till  he  had  brought 
about  my  expulsion  from  the  ministry. 

14.  I  will  mention  another  aifair  to  show  what  notions  cer- 
tain members  of  the  church  had  of  what  was  required  of 
Christians  in  reference  to  business  matters.  I  bought  some 
handkerchiefs  of  a  man,  a  member  of  society,  in  Chester,  on 
his  assurance  that  they  would  wash.  AVhen  we  washed 
them  they  came  to  pieces.  I  asked  the  man  afterwards  if 
he  was  aware  when  he  sold  the  handkerchiefs  that  they 
were  rotten.  He  said  he  was.  "  Then  \vhy  did  you  sell 
me  them?"  I  asked.  He  said  he  had  bought  them  for 
good  ones  himself,  and  that  he  could  not  aiford  to  lose  what 
he  had  given  for  them.  I  wanted  such  people  to  be  dealt 
with  according  to  the  rules  of  Christian  discipline. 

15.  There  were  many  other  sad  facts,  far  more  than  I  have 
either  time  or  disposition  to  mention,  which  forced  them- 
selves on  my  notice,  and  obliged  me,  in  conscience,  to  plead 
and  labor  for  reform.  There  seemed  a  dreadful  distance 
between  the  character  of  Christ  and  the  character  of  the 
Church  ;  and  I  wished  to  make  it  less.  How  far  I  erred 
in  my  efforts  to  bring  about  this  desirable  result,  and  how 
far  I  acted  wisely,  it  is  not  for  me  to  say.  I  know  that  my 
object  was  good,  and  that  the  course  I  took  was  the  one 
that  seemed  best  to  me  at  the  time ;  but  it  is  probable  that 
some  would  have  gone  about  the  work  in  a  wiser  way.  I 
never  excelled  in  certain  forms  of  prudence.  I  was  prone 
to  speak  forth  my  thoughts  and  feelings  without  much  con- 
sideration and  with  but  little  reserve ;  and  I  often  used  the 
plainest  and  even  the  strongest  words.  I  Avas  too  open. 
My  heart  was  too  near  my  mouth.  I  thought  aloud.  And 
I  was  not  sufficiently  tender  of  people's  feelings.  Nor  did 
I  make  sufficient  allowance  for  their  prejudices  and  imper- 
fections.    I  probably  expected  too  much  from  men.     And 


134  THE   REFORMING    TENDEIfCY. 

some  of  the  reforms  which  I  proposed  might  at  the  time  be 
impracticable.  I  was  accustomed  to  muse  very  much  on 
the  teachings  of  Christ  and  His  Apostles,  and  to  image  to 
myself  a  state  of  things  in  the  Church  which,  though  very 
desirable,  was  probably  unattainable,  except  through  many 
slow  preliminary  changes.  I  wished  for  a  church  "  with- 
out spot,  or  wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing," — a  church  that 
should  set  forth  and  carry  out  the  highest  principles  of 
Christian  purity  and  charity — and  that  was  a  blessing  to  be 
looked  for  not  in  the  present,  but  in  the  future  only. 

16.  Then  I  had  but  little  knowledge  of  human  nature, 
either  in  its  regenerate  or  unregenerate  state.  I  over-rated 
men's  virtues,  and  under-rated  their  defects.  I  trusted  them 
too  much  and  feared  them  too  little.  I  took  all  who  put  on 
a  fair  appearance,  for  friends,  and  imparted  to  them  the  inner- 
most thoughts  of  my  soul.  And  many  proved  unworthy  of 
my  confidence.  And  I  often  over-rated  men's  talents  or 
capabilities.  I  Avas  not  aware  of  the  infinite  difference  in 
men's  powers.  I  thought  all  my  brethren  in  the  ministry, 
and  almost  all  my  brother  Christians,  were  capable,  under 
proper  culture,  of  being  made  as  wise,  as  able,  as  eloquent, 
as  the  most  distinguished  in  the  Church.  I  was  not  aware 
that  some  men  were  naturally  palm-trees,  and  others  only 
brambles  ;  that  some  were  pearls,  and  others  only  pebbles  ; 
and  that  these  constitutional  differences  were  unalterable. 
Hence  I  expected  too  much  of  some,  and  was  too  impatient 
perhaps  when  disappointed.  I  erred  with  regard  both  to 
men  and  institutions,  and  my  colleagues  were  often  offended 
with  what  they  deemed  my  unreasonable  expectations  and 
demands. 

17.  But  in  truth,  it  is  not  necessary  for  reformers  to  err,  in 
order  to  give  offence.  The  best  and  wisest  One  that  ever 
appeared  on  earth  gave  offence  to  those  who  were  wedded 
to  error  and  abuses.  A  Christian  reformer  can  never  j^lease 
the  "earthly,  the  sensual,  and  the  devilish."  The  history 
of  Christ  and  of  Paul  has  settled  that.  A  Christian  re- 
former never  does  the  right  thing  in  the  estimation  of  the 
idle,  the  selfish,  the  corrupt :  and  if  he  docs,  he  never  does 
it  at  the  right  time,  or  in  the  right  way.  He  always  med- 
dles too  early,  or  too  late  ;  and  he  always  goes  too  fist,  or 
too  slow ;  and  he  always  does  too  much,  or  too  little.     He 


EEFOEMEnS   NEVER    PLEASE  CONSEEVATIVES.      135 

interferes  with  their  ease,  their  interests,  and  their  pleasures, 
and  that  is  enough.  They  will,  in  return,  endeavor  to  de- 
stroy his  influence,  if  not  to  take  away  his  life.  They  will 
impute  to  him  the  vilest  motives.  They  will  stick  at  no 
lie,  no  wrong,  that  seems  likely  to  damage  his  reputation. 
They  will  magnify  his  innocent  weaknesses  or  trifling 
inconsistencies,  and  represent  them  as  gross  and  unpardon- 
able faults.  If  he  is  faithful  they  will  call  him  rash ;  if 
he  is  prudent  they  will  call  him  hypocritical  ;  and  they  will 
labor  in  every  way  to  awaken  against  him  distrust  and  pre- 
judice in  the  minds  of  the  better-disposed  among  their  bre- 
thren. 

And  many  of  the  better-disposed  themselves  often  see 
what  tries  them  greatly  in  the  character  and  doings  of  re- 
formers. It  is  the  natural  tendency  of  the  reforming  spirit 
to  lead  a  man  to  look  too  much  at  what  is  amiss  in  men 
and  systems,  and  too  little  at  what  is  right  and  praisewor- 
thy. It  is  what  is  amiss  that  wants  reforming,  so  he  fixes 
his  mind  on  that,  and  makes  it  the  constant  subject  of  his 
conversation.  And  so  it  was  with  myself  no  doubt  to  some 
extent.  And  this,  to  men  of  conservative  tendencies,  who 
look  more  at  the  good  and  less  at  the  evil  in  the  men  and 
systems  with  which  they  are  connected,  seems  a  grievous 
fault,  an  inexcusable  piece  of  injustice,  deserving  the  se- 
verest censure.  And  they  r-epay  it  with  the  sternest  con- 
demnation. 

And  conservatives  can  be  as  blind  or  one-sided  as  the 
most  eager  reformers.  They  can  shut  their  eyes  to  what  is 
evil,  or  treat  great  abuses  as  excusable  trifles ;  while  they 
magnify  what  is  good  beyond  all  bounds.  And  when  they 
get  excited  or  vexed  they  can  be  as  unjust  towards  the  re- 
former, as  the  most  rabid  reformer  can  be  towards  them  or 
their  pet  institutions.  And  there  are  ievf  things  fiercer  than 
the  fire  of  bigotry,  even  in  minds  not  destitute  of  piety. 
The  truth  is,  when  men  wax  hot,  either  in  favor  of  reform 
or  against  it,  justice  is  forgotten,  and  kindness  and  courtesy 
are  out  of  the  question. 

And  so  it  was  in  the  controversies  which  arose  out  of  my 
efforts  at  reform.  I  was  assailed  both  by  the  malignity  of 
the  corrupt,  and  by  the  bigotry  of  the  misguided.  I  was 
hated  by  the  bad,  and   dreaded  by  some  of  the  good,  and 


136  THE  EEFOEMING  TENDENCY. 

abused  and  persecuted  by  both.  And  some  of  my  ene- 
mies had  neither  mercy  nor  moderation.  They  pressed 
matters  to  the  most  terrible  extremes. 

And  I  was  not  sufficiently  on  my  guard.  Instead  of  pos- 
sessing my  soul  in  patience,  and  casting  my  care  on  God,  I 
allowed  their  persecutions  to  increase  the  bitterness  of  my 
unhappy  feelings,  and  render  my  ultimate  separation  from 
them  inevitable. 

18.  There  were  several  other  matters  which  had  some- 
thing to  do  in  causing  unpleasant  feelings  between  me  and 
a  number  of  my  brethren. 

It  fell  to  my  lot  to  be  unusually  popular.  I  became 
so  at  a  very  early  period.  I  was,  in  consequence,  often  in- 
vited by  other  circuits  to  preach  their  special  sermons,  and 
I  frequently  accepted  those  invitations.  Some  of  my  super- 
intendents were  annoyed  at  this,  and  showed  their  displeasure 
in  very  offensive  ways.  While  I  was  in  Hanley  circuit  my 
superintendent  called  a  meeting  of  a  number  of  leading 
friends,  before  which  I  was  summoned  to  appear.  There 
my  acceptance  of  invitations  to  preach  occasional  sermons 
was  charged  against  me  as  an  offence,  and  I  was  ordered 
not  to  go  into  other  circuits  any  more,  without  the  consent 
of  my  superintendent.  I  offered  no  objection  to  this.  My 
superintendent  next  charged  me  with  having  a  number  of 
objectionable  books  in  my  library.  He  had  requested  the 
woman  at  whose  house  I  lodged  to  show  him  into  my  room 
during  my  absence,  and  there  he  had  found  the  works  of 
Shakespeare,  Barrow,  Tillotson,  and  Paley,  and  some  vol- 
umes of  poems  by  Lord  Byron.  The  meeting  advised  me 
to  get  rid  of  Shakespeare  and  Byron,  and  to  be' careful  how 
I  used  the  works  of  Barrow,  Tillotson,  and  Paley,  as  they 
were  not  Methodistical,  and  my  great  concern,  it  was  said, 
should  be  to  excel  as  a  teacher  and  defender  of  Methodism. 
"With  this  recommendation  I  could  not  entirely  comply.  I 
retained  my  Shakespeare ;  I  have  him  yet.  And  I  read  the 
works  of  Tillotson,  Barrow,  and  Paley  as  freely  as  I  had 
done  before.  But  I  lost  all  confidence  in  my  superintend- 
ent, and  a  portion  of  the  respect  I  had  felt  for  those  who 
took  his  part.  Towards  the  close  of  the  year  ray  superin- 
tendent and  his  fi-iends  endeavored  to  prevent  me  from  re- 
ceiving a  perfect  certificate,  on  the  pretence  that  I  had  ex- 


THINGS   COMIXG   TO   A   CRISIS.  137 

pressed  a  doubt  whether  my  health  would  prove  equal  to 
the  work  of  the  ministry.  Their  objections  proved  of  no 
avail ;  but  the  spirit  which  my  superintendent  showed,  in- 
creased the  unhappy  feeling  which  his  previous  unkindness 
had  awakened  in  my  breast. 

19.  The  wife  of  one  of  our  ministers  published  a  book, 
and  the  husband  sent  it  to  me  for  review.  It  contained, 
mixed  up  with  a  great  variety  of  useful  remarks,  a  number 
of  anti-scriptural  and  antinomian  passages.  While  I  did 
justice  to  the  rest  of  the  book,  I  exposed  its  errors  with 
great  fidelity,  and  gave  the  husband  great  offence. 

20.  About  the  same  time  a  gentleman  at  whose  house  I  was 
billeted  at  Bury,  when  lecturing  there  on  temperance,  made 
me  a  present  of  a  volume  of  Channing's  discourses.  I  read 
this  volume  with  the  greatest  delight,  and  spoke  of  it  high- 
ly in  my  periodical.  Now  Channing  was  a  Unitarian, 
and  in  one  of  the  discourses  contained  in  the  volume  which 
I  had  commended,  there  were  several  Unitarian  expressions. 
The  husband  of  the  lady  whose  book  I  had  reviewed 
brought  the  matter  before  Conference.  He  also  quoted 
from  my  periodical  a  number  of  passages  which  he  contend- 
ed were  not  Method istical.  He  was  very  violent  in  his  re- 
marks, and  concluded  his  address  by  demanding  my  expul- 
sion. He  had  conferred  with  a  number  of  other  preach- 
ers before  Conference  came  on,  and  formed  a  considerable 
party,  and  the  clamor  for  my  condemnation  was  both  loud 
and  somewhat  general.  A  gentleman,  however,  of  great 
influence  in  Conference, — the  same  who  had  pleaded  for 
moderation  at  the  Conference  previous, — rose  and  proposed 
a  gentler  course.  The  result  was  a  committee,  explanations 
and  a  settlement.  After  the  Conference,  the  terms  of  the 
settlement  were  misrepresented  by  my  opponents,  and  I  felt 
called  upon  to  put  them  in  their  proper  light.  This  revived 
the  controversy,  and  made  matters  worse  than  they  had  been 
before. 

21.  I  have  referred  to  the  rule  which  required  young 
preachers  to  remain  single  for  four  or  five  years.  When  a 
person  was  received  into  the  ministry,  he  was  required  to 
give  a  pledge  that  he  would  keep  this  rule.  I  declined  to 
give  this  pledge.  I  said  I  had  no  intention  to  marry  be- 
fore the  appointed  time,  and  that  if  I  did  so,  I  should  be 


138  THE    EEFOHMING    TENDENCY. 

in  the  hands  of  the  Conference,  and  they  could  do  with  me 
what  they  thought  best.  This  was  considered  sufficient, 
and  I  was  accepted.  As  it  haj^pened  I  did  marry  before 
the  appointed  time.  I  had  had  such  unsuitable  lodgings 
found  me  where  I  had  been  stationed,  and  I  had  suffered 
so  much  in  consequence,  that  I  felt  justified  in  taking  a 
wife  and  providing  accommodations  for  myself.  I  took 
for  my  wife  a  woman  of  exemplary  character,  of  amiable 
disposition,  and  engaging  manners,  and  I  put  the  circuits 
in  which  I  was  stationed  to  no  additional  expense  or  trou- 
ble. I  took  my  own  house,  and  provided  my  own  furni- 
ture. And  I  neither  begged  nor  borrowed  a  penny,  nor 
did  I  run  one  penny  into  debt.  And  I  worked  as  hard  after 
marriage  as  before,  and  probably  harder,  and  to  better  pur- 
pose. The  Conference  however  punished  me  by  putting 
me  a  year  back,  and  transjx)rting  me  to  the  most  distant 
j)art  of  a  very  distant  circuit.  Thither  I  had  to  remove 
my  wife  and  furniture  at  great  expense.  And  the  allow- 
ance for  board  there  was  the  lowest  that  the  laws  allowed 
a  society  to  give.  My  whole  yearly  income  was  only  forty 
pounds,  or  two  hundred  dollars.  I  was  required  too  to  be 
often  and  long  from  home  in  distant  parts  of  the  circuit  I 
went  however  to  my  appointment  and  set  to  work,  dis- 
posed, though  sorrowful,  to  do  my  duty.  I  got  a  part  of 
an  old  uninhabited  house,  and  my  wife  made  it  comforta- 
ble. We  lived  economically,  and  kept  out  of  debt,  with- 
out the  aid  of  either  gifts  or  loans,  and  I  never  had  a  hap- 
pier year,,and  my  labors  were  never  better  received  or  more 
successful ;  and  Blyth,  the  place  of  my  banishment,  will  be 
dear  to  me  as  long  as  I  live. 

22.  Yet  I  had  many  trials  while  stationed  there.  My 
superintendent  was  unkind,  and  tried  from  time  to  time  to 
do  me  harm.  But  though  he  caused  me  much  trouble  at 
times,  a  higher  power  overruled  things  for  my  good. 
One  of  the  societies  over  which  he  had  great  in^uence  was 
really  cruel.  It  refused  to  postpone  a  service  to  allow  me 
to  go  and  sec  my  child  when  it  was  very  ill,  and  thought 
to  be  in  great  danger."  Tlie  circuit  was  nearly  thirty  miles 
in  length,  and  I  had  to  spend  nearly  half  my  time  from 
fifteen  to  twenty-three  miles  away  from  home.  Once  when 
starting  for  the  most  distant  of  my  appointments,  I  had 


PEOVOCATIONS,    TRIALS.  139 

left  my  little  child  very  unwell,  and  apparently  in  danger 
of  death.  It  was  too  bad  that  I  should  hare  had  to  leave  my 
little  family  under  such  circumstances ;  but  the  feeling  in 
many  parts  of  the  circuit  was  so  unfriendly  towards  me,  in 
consequence  of  the  unfavorable  representations  of  my  views 
and  habits  of  thought  circulated  by  my  superintendent  and 
his  friends,  that  I  could  not  have  missed  an  appointment 
with  safety.  I  had  been  away  five  days,  when  I  heard  that 
my  child  was  worse,  and  likely  to  die.  I  had  still  one  ap-  , 
pointment  to  fulfil,  but  I  resolved,  if  possible,  to  get  it  ^ 
postponed,  and  hasten  home.  I  went  to  the  place  and  re- 
quested the  leaders  to  allow  me  to  put  off  the  appointment 
to  the  following  week.  They  refused  my  request.  I  told 
them  I  had  received  word  that  my  child  was  likely  to  die, 
and  that  I  was  anxious  to  be  with  its  afflicted  mother ;  but 
they  would  not  give  way.  I  was  sadly  tried,  and  I  said, 
"  I  shall  go  home  notwithstanding.  If  I  find  my  child 
alive  and  likely  to  recover,  I  will  return  and  preach ;  if  I 
do  not  find  it  better,  I  shall  not  return.  I  shall  stay  at 
home  and  take  the  consequences  !"  I  had  already  walked 
thirteen  miles.  It  was  ten  or  eleven  more  to  Blyth.  I 
walked  the  whole  distance.  There  was  no  conveyance. 
My  superintendent  was  allowed  horse  hire ;  but  I  M'as  not : 
and  I  could  not  afford  to  pay  for  a  horse  myself  out  of  six- 
teen dollars  or  three  pound  five  a  month.  I  reached  home, 
and  found  my  child  a  little  better.  After  a  little  rest,  I 
started  back  on  foot  to  my  appointment.  My  w'ife  looked 
out  of  the  window  after  me,  weeping,  afraid  to  ask  me  to 
remain  with  her.  She  knew  the  temper  of  my  superin- 
tendent, and  the  feeling  of  the  people,  so  she  Mept  in  silence. 
I  walked  over  ten  miles  .more,  and  then  preached.  I 
walked  altogether  thirty-three  miles  that  day.  I  was  very 
much  tired ;  but  I  had  seen  my  wife  and  child,  so  I  went 
through  my  work  without  complaining,  and  was  up  very 
early  next  morning,  and  walked  ten  miles  more  to  break- 
fast with  my  darling  wife,  and  to  comfort  her  sorrowful  heart. 
My  child  got  well,  and  all  things  turned  out  happily  in 
the  end.  Still,  the  unkindness  of  the  Conference  in  pun- 
ishing me  so  underservedly,  and  the  cruelty  of  my  super- 
intendent and  the  Westmoor  leaders,  made  me  feel  very 
keenly,  and  I  could  never  think  of  those  matters  without 


140  THE   REFORMING    TENDENCY. 

something  like  indignation  and  horror.  And  all  these 
annoyances  lessened  my  respect  for  many  of  my  brethren, 
and  helped  to  pre})are  the  way  for  future  troubles. 

My  troubles  did  not  all  come  from  the  preachers.  There 
were  several  laymen  in  and  about  Newcastle-on-Tyne,  who 
seemed  to  think  it  a  duty  to  annoy  their  young  minister. 
The  worst,  though  in  some  respects  the  best,  of  that  class 
was  Thomas  Snowdon,  an  old  local  preacher,  leader,  and 
trustee.  The  first  interview  that  I  had  with  this  man  he  took 
occasion  to  insult  me  respecting  my  marriage,  and  also  gave 
me  to  understand  that  he  should  expect  me  to  be  in  per- 
fect subjection  to  his  will,  if  I  wished  to  enjoy  much  peace 
or  comfort  in  the  circuit.  It  fell  to  my  lot  to  be  lodged 
and  boarded  for  part  of  ray  time  at  his  house,  and  to  show 
his  way  of  proceeding  I  may  give  the  following. 

It  was  his  custom  to  read  a  portion  of  the  Scriptures  to 
his  family  every  morning,  and  as  he  passed  along  he  would 
make  comments  on  what  he  read.  When  I  was  there,  he 
would  frequently  stop  in  his  readings  and  comments,  to 
ask  my  opinion,  and  he  seemed  to  expect  that  I  must  al- 
ways concur  in  what  he  said.  At  times  however  I  was 
obliged  to  dissent  from  his  sayings,  and  then  would  follow 
a  little  controversy.  Those  controversies  were  never  very 
profitable,  in  consequence  of  his  constant  desire  to  force  his 
own  opinions  on  me,  and  to  extort  from  me  assent  to  his 
whimsical  and  foolish  observations.  Yet  he  still  continued 
to  force  those  controversies. 

He  also  took  upon  himself  the  office  of  perpetual  censu- 
rer  of  my  discourses.  And  his  censures  were  generally  pro- 
portioned to  the  goodness  of  the  sermon.  If  I  happened 
to  be  particularly  at  liberty  in  my  discourse,  and  preach 
better  than  usual,  he  would  blame  almost  everything.  If 
I  preached  inditi'erently,  he  would  censure  less ;  and  if  I 
preached  poorly,  if  I  was  embarrassed  in  my  discourse, 
and  seemed  troubled  or  sad  on  that  account,  he  would 
scarcely  censure  at  all.  Then  the  things  which  he  censured 
would  be  sure  to  be  the  best  and  truest  parts  of  my  sermon. 
He  appeared  to  think  that  he  was  out  of  his  duty,  unless 
he  was  endeavoring  to  torture  the  mind  of  the  young 
preacher,  and  to  force  liim,  if  possible,  into  subjection  to 
his  will. 


A   CUEIOUS    CHARACTER.  141 

On  one  occasion  he  and  I  had  nearly  quarrelled.  He 
had  tried  me  till  I  could  keep  silence  n»-  longer,  so  I  told 
him  plainly  what  I  thought  about  his  manner  of  proceed- 
ing. I  spoke  so  plainly,  that  both  he  and  his  wife  were 
seriously  put  about.  Soon  after  that,  on  my  visiting  the 
Newcastle  side  of  the  circuit,  I  found  that  the  people  at 
whose  house  I  was  then  accustomed  to  sleep,  had  gone  off, 
and  closed  the  house,  so  that  I  was  obliged  to  look  out  for 
other  lodgings.  I  went  directly  to  Mr.  Snowdon's.  He 
was  the  principal  man  in  the  circuit,  and  it  was  his  place 
to  see  that  I  was  properly  provided  for.  His  wife  seemed 
astonished  when  I  entered  the  house :  but  I  told  her  how 
the  matter  stood ;  and  I  added,  that  I  did  not  feel  disposed 
to  go,  at  that  time  of  the  night,  (for  it  was  getting  rather 
late)  to  any  other  lodging ;  so  that  I  hoped  she  would  give 
me  a  bed.  I  also  said,  that  unless  I  could  be  accommo- 
dated with  a  bed  there,  I  would  at  once  return  to  Blyth. 
She  said,  '  I  should  always  be  glad  to  see  you,  and  to  give 
you  either  bed  or  anything  else,  if  you  would  not  disagree 
and  dispute  so  with  our  master.'  I  replied,  '  It  is  your 
master  that  will  disagree  and  dispute  with  me.  I  should 
be  quiet  enough,  if  he  would  let  me  alone.  I  never  force 
my  opinions  on  him  ;  it  is  only  when  he  attempts  to  force 
his  opinions  on  me  that  I  ever  speak.  You  must  yourself 
have  seen  that  he  will  neither  allow  me  to  be  silent,  nor 
allow  me  quietly  to  sj)eak  my  mind  ;  that  he  will  oblige  me 
to  speak,  and  yet  always  finds  fault  if  I  say  anything  at 
variance  with  what  he  says.'  She  acknowledged  that  her 
husband  was  rather  queer  in  that  respect,  but  still  thought 
that  I  might  manage  a  great  deal  better  with  him  if  I 
would.  I  told  her  I  had  done  my  best,  and  that  it  was  all 
to  no  purpose.  'He  will  ask  my  opinion,'  said  I,  'on 
every  subject  that  comes  into  his  head,  and  then  begin  to 
complain  whenever  my  opinion  happens  to  diifer  from  his.' 
I  also  added,  that  I  thought  he  sometimes  disputed  with 
me  merely  for  the  sake  of  disputing,  and  contradicted  me, 
not  because  he  thought  I  was  wrong,  but  because  he  thought 
that  it  would  be  too  much  of  a  compliment  to  acknowledge 
that  he  agreed  with  me  on  any  subject.  She  thought  I 
was  too  severe  upon  him.  I  said,  '  Well,  just  wait  and  see 
to-night,  and  if  it  is  not  as  I  have  said,  you  shall  blame  me 


142  THE  REFORMING  TENDENCY. 

as  much  as  you  like,  and  I  will  acknowledge  myself  in. 
error.' 

Almost  immediately  Mr.  Sn'owdon  came  in.  '  What  are 
you  doing  here  to-night  ?'  said  he.  '  I  have  come  to  sleep 
here/  I  replied,  '  and  more  than  that,  I  must  sleep  here,  or 

else  return  to  Blyth.      Mr.  G 's  house  is  closed,  and  it 

is  too  late  to  seek  a  bed  elsewhere.'  He  made  no  objections, 
and  things  proceeded  as  usual.  He  soon  took  his  Bible, 
called  the  family  around  him,  and  began  to  read.  The 
lesson  was  in  Isaiah.  He  had  not  read  far  before  he  began 
to  explain  a  passage.  '  This,'  said  he,  '  refers  to  our  blessed 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  It  points  out  the  glory  of  His  charac- 
ter and  of  His  person  as  the  supreme  God  and  Lord  of  all ; 
exhibits  Him  as  the  Maker  as  well  as  the  Saviour  of  the 
world.  Do  you  not  think  so,  Mr.  Barker  ?'  said  he.  I  re- 
mained silent.  '  Is  not  that  your  view  of  the  subject,  Mr. 
Barker  ?'  he  added.  '  I  have  no  objections  to  oifer,'  I  said. 
This  did  not  seem  exactly  to  satisfy  him  ;  but  he  went  on, 
and  read  again.  '  And  so  it  is,'  said  he  ;  '  we  are  all  by 
nature  as  an  unclean  thing ;  there  is  no  health  in  us.  How 
deeply  we  are  fallen,  Mr.  Barker !  Do  you  not  think  so, 
Mr.  Barker?'  I  made  no  reply.  He  wished  to  know 
why  I  was  silent.  I  said  I  did  not  like  to  be  always  talk- 
ing on  those  matters, — that  I  would  rather  he  would  read 
on,  and  allow  us  to  think  about  the  chapter  at  our  leisure 
afterwards.  All  this  time  his  wife  was  dreadfully  fidgetty. 
She  wanted  to  speak  to  him,  but  could  not.  She  wished 
to  catch  his  attention  by  her  looks,  but  to  no  purpose.  The 
proof  of  the  truth  of  what  I  had  said  was  becoming  too 
strong  for  her,  and  she  could  scarcely  sit  still  on  her  chair. 
He  proceeded :  '  This,'  said  he,  '  refers  to  tlie  glory  of  the 
Church  of  Christ  in  the  latter  days,  when  the  Gentiles 
shall  be  converted,  and  the  Jews  brought  back  to  their 
own  land.  This  will  be  a  glorious  time,  Mr.  Barker. 
What  are  your  views  on  this  subject,  Mr.  Barker?'  Then 
he  added  some  further  remarks,  concluding  with  the  ques- 
tion, 'Do  you  not  tliink  so,  Mr.  Barker?'  I  now  began 
to  laugh  :  I  could  hold  no  longer.  '  And  do  you  laugh  at 
God's  holy  word  ?'  said  he :  and  a  terrible  lecture  he  would 
have  read  me,  had  not  his  wife  broke  out  and  said,  '  Ilin- 
ney,  you  are  to  blame,  you  are  to  blame.     You  won't  let 


A   DECENT   MAN  AFTER    ALL.  143 

Mr.  Barker  alone :  he  would  be  silent  if  you  would  allow 
him :  you  are  too  bad/  He  repeated  his4errible  rebuke  of 
my  levity,  and  I  began  to  explain.  I  told  him  what  had 
passed  between  his  wife  and  me  before  he  came  in.  I  told 
him  all  that  I  thought  about  his  way  of  proceeding  to- 
wards me  in  those  matters,  and  he,  poor  fellow,  was  com- 
pletely confounded.  I  told  him  that  it  seemed  to  me  as 
if  he  really  took  pleasure  in  tormenting  people ;  as  if  he 
could  not  be  happy  unless  he  thought  that  he  was  making 
other  people  miserable, — that  he  seemed  to  begrudge  those 
that  were  around  him  the  least  ease,  or  quietness,  or  plea- 
sure, and  to  wish  to  keep  them  on  a  perpetual  rack.  It 
was  his  time  now  to  explain  and  apologize,  and  what  do 
you  think  was  the  reason  he  assigned  for  his  proceedings  ? 
'  Hinney,'  said  he,  '  Mr.  Barker  is  a  young  minister,  and  I 
wish  to  inure  him  to  hardness  as  a  good  soldier  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.'  I  told  him  there  were  painful  things 
enough  in  the  world  to  inure  men  to  hardness  without  hlfe 
making  more,  &c.  After  this  he  never  annoyed  me  much 
in  that  way  again.  He  did  not  allow  me  to  rest  altoge- 
ther ;  that  would  have  been  too  much ;  but  he  was  a  vast 
deal  better ;  and  if  he  ever  after  this  began  to  be  queer,  I 
always  felt  greater  confidence  in  refusing  to  talk  to  him, 
and  in  letting  him  know  that  I  expected  to  be  allowed  to 
have  a  little  of  my  own  way. 

I  never  could  persuade  myself  but  that  this  man  was, 
after  all,  a  good  man.  I  believe  he  really  feared  God  and 
loved  his  fellow-men.  I  think  he  was  conscientious  and 
benevolent.  Among  other  proofs  of  his  benevolence  I  may 
mention,  that  he  took  an  orphan  family  under  his  care,  and 
reared  them.  He  made  them  worh,  it  is  true ;  he  made 
every  one  work  that  was  under  him  ;  but  he  fed  them,  and 
clothed  them,  and  taught  them  in  his  way.  He  acted,  in 
short,  like  a  father  to  them. 

Again,  when  my  mother  came  over  to  see  me  at  !N^ew- 
castle,  he  invited  her  to  his  house.  He  showed  her  every 
possible  attention.  He  was  as  kind  as  it  was  possible  for  a 
man  to  be.  And  when  she  had  to  leave  for  Leeds,  he  was 
up  by  four  or  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  to  provide  her 
a  comfortable  breakfast,  and  take  her  to  the  coach.  But  I 
observed  that  he  was  always  kinder  to  old  people  than  to 


144  THE  EEFORMING    TENDENCY. 

young  people.  I  suppose  he  thought  that  old  people  had 
had  trouble  enough,  and  that  he  had  therefore  no  need  to 
give  them  more  ;  but  that  young  people  M^ere  in  danger  of 
being  too  happy,  of  having  too  little  trouble,  and  that  it 
was  necessary  therefore  that  he  should  be  their  tormentor. 
But  even  to  the  young  he  could  be  kind  on  occasions,  very 
kind ;  and  if  the  young  shoAAcd  a  disposition  to  meet  his 
views,  to  receive  his  sayings  as  oracles,  and  always  to  con- 
sult his  will,  he  would  even  caress  and  commend  them. 
But  he  could  receive  no  measured  or  limited  subjection. 
They  must  neither  think,  nor  speak,  nor  smile,  nor  stir 
but  in  accordance  with  his  will  if  they  wished  to  enjoy  his 
favor.  The  least  imaginable  opposition  to  his  judgment  or 
his  pleasure,  would  draw  forth  his  rebukes. 

There  were  laymen  in  almost  all  places  who  took  upon 
themselves  to  tell  you  what  you  should  believe  and  teach, 
and  to  condemn  you  as  a  heretic  if  you  did  not  attend  to 
their  suggestions. 

24.  In  1837,  shortly  after  I  was  stationed  in  Mossley,  I 
had  a  public  discussion  with  a  clergyman  on  the  propriety 
or  lawfulness  of  teaching  the  children  of  the  poor  to  write 
in  our  Sunday-schools.  The  New  Connexion  people  in  the 
Mossley  circuit  taught  writing  in  their  Sunday-schools,  and 
they  had,  in  consequence,  a  very  large  attendance  of  scholars, 
and  very  prosperous  churches.  Their  scholars  outnumbered 
those  of  all  the  other  schools  put  together.  This  seemed  to 
annoy  the  ministers  of  the  other  denominations,  and  it  was 
no  uncommon  thing  for  those  ministers,  when  they  came  to 
preach  the  yearly  sermons  in  behalf  of  the  funds  of  their 
schools,  to  say  strong  things  against  the  practice  of  the  Ncav 
Connexion.  Dr.  Nunn,  of  the  Established  Church,  con- 
tended that  it  was  Sabbath-breaking,  and  challenged  the 
New  Connexion  officials  to  a  public  discussion  on  the  sub- 
ject. They  accepted  the  cliallenge,  and  appointed  me  their 
champion.  I  contended,  that  in  the  circumstances  in  which 
the  children  of  the  poor  were  placed  at  that  time,  it  was  an 
act  of  mercy  and  Christian  beneficence  to  teach  them  to 
write  on  Sundays.  The  clergyman  gave  up  the  contest  be- 
fore the  time  allowed  for  the  debate  came  to  a  close,  and  I 
was  proclaimed  victor.  I  published  my  views  on  the  sub- 
ject in  a  pamphlet,  entitled  Mercy  Triumphant,  which 


TEOUBLES  IN    SHEFFIELD.  145 

had  an  extensive  circulation,  and  produced  a  powerful  ef- 
fect on  the  views  of  large  numbers  of  peoj^le.  Some  of  my 
brethren  denounced  the  pamphlet  as  heretical,  and  the  edi- 
tor of  the  3Iagazine  took  occasion  to  inform  his  readers,  in 
an  offensive  way,  that  my  views  were  not  the  views  of  the 
body  to  which  I  belonged. 

25.  In  the  Sheffield  circuit  I  had  several  unpleasant  colli- 
sions with  one  of  my  colleagues,  and  a  couple  of  superan- 
nuated ministers,  about  a  rich  but  very  unworthy  member 
there.  This  man  was  anxious  to  control  the  action  of  the 
whole  circuit,  and  even  of  the  whole  Connexion,  and  one  of 
my  colleagues,  and  the  two  superannuated  ministers,  one  of 
which  was  Mr.  AUin,  my  old  and  persistent  opjDonent,  took 
his  part.  I  had  myself  no  faith  in  the  man.  I  knew  him 
to  be  both  an  ignorant  and  unworthy  person.  He  M'as,  in 
fact,  a  drunkard.  Both  he  and  Mr.  Allin  once,  after  having 
spent  the  day  at  a  public  feast,  came  into  an  official  meeting 
drunk  in  the  evening.-  -  I  was  present,  and  saw  the  horri- 
ble sight.  It  afterwards  came  out  that  this  rude,  ambitious 
man  was  something  worse  than  a  drunkard.  I  did  what  I 
could  to  avoid  an  open  rupture  with  my  colleagues  and  this 
man's  friends,  and  succeeded  for  a  time,  but  they  obliged 
me  at  last,  either  to  sanction  what  I  felt  to  be  M^rong,  or 
openly  to  protest  against  their  proceedings.  I  protested. 
And  now  the  unsubstantial  peace  which  had  existed  between 
us  for  a  time  was  followed  by  a  very  unhappy  rupture, 
which  left  deep  and  angry  wounds  in  the  hearts  of  all  the 
contending  parties. 

26.  But  to  give  all  the  incidents  which  proved  the  occa- 
sion of  bitter  feeling  and  alienation  between  me  and  a  num- 
ber of  my  brethren  would  require  a  book.  They  were  hap- 
pening almost  continually.  When  once  people  have  ceased 
to  regard  each  other  with  love  and  confidence,  they  can 
neither  speak  nor  stir  without  giving  each  other  offence. 
And  this  was  the  state  to  which  I  and  several  of  my  bre- 
thren bad  come.  Indeed  such  was  the  unhappy  state  of 
our  feelings,  that  we  had  ceased  to  take  pleasure  in  plea- 
sing, and  had  come  almost  to  take  delight  in  trying  one 
another.  Instead  of  coming  as  near  together  as  we  could, 
we  got  as  far  as  possible  apart.  We  came  at  length  to  feel 
a  kind  of  gratification  in  finding  what  appeared  good  rea- 


146  THE  EEFOEMING    TENDENCY. 

sons  for  differing  from  one  another.  The  consequence  was, 
we  came  to  differ  from  each  other  so  much,  that  it  became 
impossible  for  us  to  work  together  to  any  advantage. 

And  there  was  no  one  with  wisdom  and  piety  sufficient 
to  interpose  and  heal  the  breach,  or  even  to  prevent  it  from 
getting  continually  wider.  The  gentleman  who  had  acted  as 
mediator  and  moderator  when  my  article  on  Toleration  and 
Unman  Creeds  was  arraigned,  and  who  had  also  brought 
about  the  temporary  settlement  of  a  more  serious  dispute  at 
the  Conference  following,  now  found  the  case  beyond  his 
powers,  and  made  no  further  attempts  at  reconciliation.  He 
saw  it  necessary,  if  he  would  retain  his  influence  in  the 
Body,  to  become  a  partizan,  instead  of  a  mediator,  and  he 
chose  the  side  of  my  opponents.  There  were  two  other 
men — two  of  the  oldest  and  ablest  of  our  ministers — and 
two  of  the  most  exemplary  Christians  in  the  Bcxly — who 
saw  the  danger  of  the  tempest  that  was  raging  against  me, 
and  who  would  have  been  glad  to  screen  me  from  its  vio- 
lence, but  they  Avere  afraid  to  interpose.  They  loved  me 
and  esteemed  me,  and  sympathized  with  me  in  many  of  my 
views ;  but  to  have  attempted  to  save  me  from  the  fury  of 
my  opponents,  would  have  been  to  risk  their  own  reputa- 
tion and  position.  One  of  them  had  already  suffered  in 
consequence  of  the  freedom  with  which  he  had  expressed 
his  views  on  certain  anti-christian  doctrines,  though  he 
had  written  with  far  more  caution,  and  acted  with  much 
more  prudence,  than  I  had  done ;  and  he  no  doubt  felt,  that 
if  he  could  not,  without  so  much  difficulty,  save  himself,  it 
would  be  vain  to  attempt  to  save  another,  who  had  spoken 
and  written  with  so  much  more  freedom,  and  acted  with  so 
much  more  indc}>endence.  So  the  storm  was  left  to  rage 
and  spend  its  fury  on  my  own  head. 

I  cannot  give  an  account  of  all  that  folloAved  during  the 
last  two  years  which  I  spent  in  connection  with  the  Church; 
it  would  make  my  story  too  long.  But  things  got  worse 
and  worse  as  time  passed  on. 

In  1840  I  brought  my  Evangelical  Reformer  to  a  close. 
In  the  last  number  I  declared  my  unchanged  belief  in  the 
sentiments  set  forth  in  my  article  on  '^  Toleration,  Human 
Creed<i,  d'c."  I  also  contradicted  the  reports  that  had  been 
spread  abroad  by  my  enemies,  to  the  effect  that  I  had,  at 


ATTEMPTED    EXPULSION.  147 

the  preceding  Conference,  retracted  certain  expressions  used 
in  my  writings  with  regard  to  justification,  the  witness  of 
the  Spirit,  &g.  ;  and  censured  the  conduct  of  the  ruling 
party  in  my  case  in  very  plain  terms,  t^said,  "  If  any  of 
my  opponents  imagine  that  I  have  recanted  a  single  sen- 
tence that  I  have  published  in  this  work,  they  are  under 
some  misapprehension.  There  is  not  a  doctrine  that  I  have 
inculcated  in  it  that  I  do  not  still  maintain.  And  I  declare 
my  full  conviction  that  the  resolutions  which  were  passed 
in  reference  to  me  by  the  Ashton  and  Huddersficld  Con- 
ferences were  based  in  error,  and  that  the  proceedings  of 
my  opponents  in  this  matter  were  uncalled  for  and  un- 
christian." 

My  enemies  at  once  decided  on  ray  expulsion.  Their 
purpose  was  to  cast  me  out  at  the  following  Conference, 
and  Mr.  All  in  published  a  small  tract  in  reply  to  my  arti- 
cle on  Human  Creeds,  to  prepare  the  minds  of  the'  people 
for  the  intended  measure.  He  published  it  just  before  Con- 
ference, when  he  supposed  it  would  be  impossible  for  me 
to  prepare  a  reply  before  the  Body  assembled.  I  never 
saw  it  till  the  evening  of  Thursday,  the  day  but  one  before 
that  on  which  I  was  to  leave  home  for  the  distant  place 
where  the  Conference  was  to  meet.  But  I  wrote  a  reply 
the  same  night,  and  got  it  printed,  and  in  less  than  twenty- 
four  hours  it  was  circulating  in  every  direction.  I  had 
been  able  to  show  that  my  opponent's  arguments  proved 
just  the  contrary  of  what  they  were  brought  forward  to 
prove.  I  also  showed  that  the  views  advocated  in  my  ar- 
ticle were  the  views  of  Mr.  Kilham,  the  founder  of  the 
Body  to  which  we  all  belonged,  and  were,  in  fact,  the  views 
of  some  of  the  best  and  ablest  men  that  the  Church  universal 
had  ever  produced.  I  gave  quite  a  multitude  of  quotations 
justifying  my  article  to  the  very  letter.  The  effect  was 
astounding.  The  people  saw  at  once  that  I  was  right.  My 
enemies  were  confounded.  They  were  paralyzed.  And  I 
was  saved. 

But  it  was  only  for  a  time.  The  contest  had  lasted  so 
long,  and  had  produced  such  a  fearful  amount  of  unhappy 
feeling  between  me  and  my  opponents,  that  reconciliation 
and  comfortable  co-operation  had  become  impossible.  It 
could  not  be  expected  that  a  powerful  party  would  rest  con- 


148  THE   KEFORMING    TENDENCY. 

tent  under  a  defeat ;  and  it  was  not  in  me  to  give  up  my 
efforts  to  bring  about  a  better  state  of  things  in  the  Con- 
nexion.    And  hence  a  renewal  of  the  unhappy  strife. 

It  is  natural  to  suppose  that  my  enemies  would  now  be 
anxious  to  get  rid  of  me,  and  would  watch  for  a  suitable  oc- 
casion to  cast  me  out ;  and  my  ideas  of  duty  were  such,  that 
it  was  impossible  for  me  long  to  refrain  from  giving  them 
the  opportunity  they  desired.     I  did  it  as  follows. 

1.  The  early  churches  provided  for  their  poor  members. 
The  Quakers,  the  Moravians,  and  the  early  Methodists  did 
the  same.  This  exercise  of  brotherly  love  is  enjoined  by 
Christ  and  Plis  Apostles.  I  urged  this  duty  on  the  church 
to  which  I  belonged.  I  preached  and  published  a  sermon 
on  the  subject,  and  circulated  a  number  of  tracts  on  the 
same  point,  published  by  others. 

2.  The  travelling  preachers  had  a  Fund,  called  the 
Beneficent  Fund,  for  the  support  of  superannuated  preachers 
and  preachers'  widows.  Some  of  the  rules  of  this  fund 
seemed  to  me  to  be  anti-christian,  and  I  labored  to  get 
them  altered.  I  also  recommended  that  there  should  be  a 
fund  for  worn-out  and  needy  local  preachers. 

3.  Members  of  the  churches  mingled  with  drunkards, 
profligates,  and  infidels,  in  benefit  societies,  and  many  other 
associations.  This  seemed  to  me  to  be  very  objectionable, 
and  plainly  unscriptui'al,  and  I  recommended  that  they 
should  come  out  from  such  societies,  and  form  associations 
for  good  objects  among  themselves. 

4.  Wesley  had  provided  cheap  books  and  pamphlets  for 
his  societies,  and  I  urged  the  Conference  to  do  the  same  for 
ours.  I  wrote  letters  to  the  Annual  Committee,  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Connexion,  showing  that  books  published 
at  eight  or  ten  shillings  a  volume,  could  be  sup])lied  at  one 
or  one  and  sixpence.  I  reminded  them  of  the  Ihct  that  the 
Book-room  had  abundance  of  spare  capital  which  might  be 
profitably  used  in  such  a  work,  and  I  pointed  out  the  advan- 
tages likely  to  result  from  the  encouragement  of  thoughtful 
and  studious  habits  among  the  people.  I  published  a  pam- 
phlet on  the  subject,  entitled  The  Church  and  the  IWss, 
showing  that  the  churches  might  almost  monopolize  the 
supply  of  books,  and  become  the  teacliers  and  the  rulers  of 
the  nations.     I  said,  "  If  the  Church  at  large  would  do  its 


OPPOSING    INFIDELITY.       EFFECTS.  149 

duty,  every  dark  place  on  earth  might  be  visited,  and  the 
seeds  of  truth  and  righteousness  sown  in  every  part  of  the 
globe  in  a  few  years."  With  regard  to  our  own  Connexion 
I  said,  "  Our  Magazine  and  Book-room,  which  ought  to  be 
promoting  the  intellectual  and  religious  improvement  of  the 
Connexion  and  the  world,  are  doing  just  nothing  at  all,  or 
next  to  nothing.  The  leading  articles  of  the  Magazine  are 
among  the  dullest  and  most  useless  things  ever  printed. 
The  Book-room,  which  has  capital  enough  to  publish  thirty 
or  forty  new  books  a  year,  does  not  issue  one.  An  institu- 
tion which  ouo;ht  to  be  fillino-  the  Connexion  and  the  coun- 
try  generally  with  the  light  and  blessings  of  Christianity, 
and  which  is  capable  of  being  made  a  blessing  to  the  world 
at  large,  is  allowed  to  '  stand  there  all  the  day  idle.' " 

I  then  proposed,  as  a  means  of  stimulating  the  Book 
Committee  and  the  Editor  of  the  Magazine  to  greater  ac- 
tivity, that  I  and  my  friends  should  be  allowed  to  publish 
a  periodical,  and  to  establish  a  Book-room,  at  our  own  ex- 
pense. The  proposal  was  not  only  rejected,  but  even  treated 
as  a  capital  offence. 

5.  I  had  labored  hard  against  the  infidel  socialists,  lec- 
turing against  them  in  almost  all  the  large  towns  in  the 
kingdom,  and  I  was,  to  a  great  extent,  the  means  of  break- 
ing up  their  societies.  But  my  contests  with  those  infidels 
made  me  more  sensible  of  the  necessity  of  abandoning  all 
human  additions  to  Christ's  doctrine,  and  of  having  no- 
thing to  defend  but  the  beautiful  and  beneficent  principles 
of  pure  unadulterated  Christianity.  Hence  I  became  still 
less  of  a  sectarian  in  my  belief,  and  more  and  more  of  a 
simple  Christian,  and  I  labored  to  promote  a  stricter  con- 
formity to  the  teachings  of  Christ  among  ministers  and 
Christians  generally. 

6.  I  wrote  a'gainst  tlie  waste  of  God's  money  by  profess- 
ing Christians  in  luxurious  living  and  vain  show,  and  ex- 
horted the  rich  to  employ  their  surplus  wealth  in  doing  good. 

7.  That  it  might  not  be  said  that  I  received  pay  from 
the  church  for  doing  one  kind  of  work  while  I  employed  a 
portion  of  my  time  in  doing  others,  I  gave  up  my  salary, 
and  refused  to  receive  anything  from  the  circuit  in  which 
I  was  stationed,  except  what  was  given  me  as  a  free- 
will offering. 


150  THE   EEFORMING    TENDENCY. 

8.  I  withdrew  from  the  preachers'  benefit  society,  re- 
solved, in  case  of  sickness  or  old  age,  to  trust  for  a  supply 
of  my  wants  to  the  providence  of  God. 

9.  I  recommended  the  Connexion  to  pay  oif  all  the 
chapel  debts,  and  prepare  itself  for  more  vigorous  and  ex- 
tensive aggressions  on  the  kingdom  of  darkness. 

All  these  things  increased  the  anxiety  of  my  opponents  to 
get  me  out  of  the  ministry ;  but  they  would  probably  have 
failed  to  give  them  the  power  to  accomplish  their  object,  if 
I  had  gone  no  farther.  But  I  believed  it  my  duty  to  take 
another  step. 

10.  It  was  the  custom  in  the  Body  to  which  I  belonged, 
to  baptize  children  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  and 
the  Holy  Ghost.  This  form  of  words  was  understood  by, 
me  to  imply  that  infant  baptism  was  commanded  by  God 
in  Scripture.  This,  however,  I  doubted,  and  I  declined  to 
use  the  words  when  naming  or  baptizing  children.  I  had 
no  objection  to  name  children,  to  pray  for  them,  or  even  to 
sprinkle  them  ;  but  I  could  not  use  an  expression  in  a  sense 
in  which  I  did  not  think  it  strictly  true.  This  emboldened 
my  enemies  to  attempt  my  expulsion  without  more  ado, 
and  this  time  they  adopted  measures  calculated  to  ensure 
success.  They  issued  circulars  on  the  subject  to  the  minis- 
ters and  to  the  leading  and  influential  laymen.  They  called 
secret  meetings.  They  employed  a  variety  of  means  which 
seemed  to  me  and  my  friends  to  savor  more  of  Popish 
tyranny  than  of  Christian  discipline.  At  length  Confer- 
once  came,  and  I  was  called  to  account.  The  charges 
against  me  were — 

"  1.  That  I  had  denied  the  divine  appointment  of  baptism, 
and  refused  to  administer  the  ordinance. 

2.  That  I  had  denied  the  divine  appointment  and  pres- 
ent obligation  of  the  Lord's  supper.  ' 

3.  That  I  had  declared  myself  opposed  to  the  beneficent 
fund. 

4.  That  I  had  announced  the  formation  of  a  book  esta- 
blishment, thereby  engaging  in  worldly  pursuits,  contrary 
to  rule,  and  by  this  means  opposing  the  best  interests  of  the 
Book-room. 

None  of  those  charges  were  true.  1.  What  I  proposed 
to  do  with  regard  to  the  supply  of  books,  was  no  more 


GROUNDS   OF   EXPULSION.  151 

worldly  business  than  preaching  was,  or  selling  the  publi- 
cations of  the  Connexion.  The  object  was  not  profit,  but 
extended  usefulness,  2.  I  had  not  declared  myself  opposed 
to  the  Beneficent  Fund,  but  had  simpTy  proposed  the 
improvement  of  its  rules,  and  the  extension  of  its  opera- 
tions. 3.  I  had  not  denied  either  the  divine  appointment 
or  present  obligation  of  the  Lord's  supper.  4.  Nor  had  I 
denied  the  divine  appointment  of  baptism,  but  only  declared 
my  belief  that  water  baptism,  though  a  becoming  rite 
under  the  Christian  dispensation,  was  the  baptism  of  John, 
and  absolutely  binding  only  under  his  intermediate  dispen- 
sation. 

The  two  latter  charges  were  not  pressed,  and  even  the 
second  was  speedily  given  up,  the  one  on  baptism  only  re- 
maining. This  was  pressed,  and  as  my  views  on  the  sub- 
ject were  deemed  intolerable,  I  was  expeljed. 

There  was  a  fearful  display  of  bad  feeling  on  the  part  of 
many  of  my  opponents.  And  no  little  pressure  was  brought 
to  bear  on  those  who  were  opposed  to  extreme  measures.  It 
was  a  time  of  terrible  trial  to  those  who  showed  themselves 
my  friends.  The  height  to  which  the  excitement  against 
me  rose  can  hardly  be  made  intelligible  to  my  readers  of 
the  present  day.  I  regarded  the  proceedings  of  my  oppo- 
nents from  beginning  to  end  as  dishonorable,  unjust  and 
cruel.  "  They  have  gone,"  said  I,  in  my  account  of  the 
proceedings  of  the  Conference,  "they  have  gone  in  opposi- 
tion to  every  dictate  both  of  equity  and  charity.  The  prin- 
ciples on  which  they  have  acted  are  the  low,  the  dark,  and 
the  tyrannical  principles  of  Popery.  They  have  covered 
themselves  with  dishonor,  and  earned  for  themselves  a  name 
for  injustice,  intolerance  and  cruelty,  beyond  all  the  reli- 
gious denominations  in  the  land.  Many  a  time,  as  I  sat  in 
my  place  in  Conference,  hearing  what  was  said,  and  observ- 
ing what  was  done,  I  asked  myself,  '  Is  this  like  Christ  ? 
Can  this  be  pleasing  to  God  ?  What  must  angels  think  to 
look  upon  a  scene  like  this?  Perpetual  talk  about  the 
authority  of  Conference  and  the  majesty  of  the  rules ;  but 
not  a  word  about  the  authority  of  Christ,  or  the  majesty 
and  supremacy  of  the  Gospel.  And  such  overbearing,  such 
harshness,  such  determined  unrelenting  cruelty  towards  all 
who  showed  a  determination  to  act  according  to  their  own 


152  THE  REFOEMING  TENDENCY. 

convictions  of  duty.'  In  the  evenings,  after  the  sittings 
of  Conference  were  adjourned,  I  and  a  friend  frequently 
walked  out  among  the  hills  surrounding  the  town,  convers- 
ing with  each  other,  and  with  our  heavenly  Father,  and  oh  ! 
what  a  contrast !  What  a  boundless  contrast  between  the 
atmosphere  of  Conference,  and  the  atmosjihere  of  those  sweet 
hills !  What  an  infinite  relief  to  be  placed  beyond  the 
sound  of  angry  strife,  and  jealous,  persecuting  rage ;  to  walk 
at  large  over  the  lofty  hills,  to  breathe  the  fresh  air  of  hea- 
ven, to  converse  with  God,  to  look  upon  His  wondrous 
works,  to  hear  the  sweet  music  of  the  birds,  to  trace  the  si- 
lent path  of  the  shadowy  woods,  or  to  stand  on  the  exposed, 
uncovered  peaks  of  the  mountain  tops,  and  cast  one's  eyes  on 
fruitful  vales,  and  quiet  homes,  and  all  that  earth  can  show 
of  grand  and  beautiful,  and  most  of  all,  to  see  in  every  sight 
the  hand  of  God — to  hear  in  every  sound  His  voice, — to 
feel  that  the  Great,  Almighty,  Unseen  Spirit  of  the  Uni- 
verse, that  lived  and  worked  through  all,  was  our  Father 
and  our  love, — to  feel  that  we  were  one  with  Him,  and 
that  He  was  one  with  us.  '  This  is  heaven,'  I  cried ;  and, 
pointing  to  the  scene  of  strife  and  hate  that  lurked  below,  I 
added,  'That  is  hell.'  Never  before  did  we  understand 
why  Jesus,  after  having  spent  the  day  in  crowds,  and  being 
harassed  with  the  captious,  cruel,  persecuting  Scribes  and 
Pharisees,  retired  at  night  into  the  desert,  or  withdrew  to 
the  mountains.  Never  before  did  the  Gospel  seem  so  true 
a  story.  Never  before  were  we  brought  into  such  living 
sympathy  with  the  Saviour  of  mankind.  I  can  recollect  no- 
thing I  ever  met  with  so  trying  as  to  sit  in  Conference ;  but 
in  our  walks  upon  the  high  places,  God  made  up  for  all." 
"  Well,"  I  added,  "  I  thank  God  I  am  now  free.  My  Con- 
ference trials  are  ended.  O  never  more  may  I  be  found 
shut  up  with  men  who  set  at  nought  the  authority  of  Christ, 
and  who,  by  all  the  cruel  arts  of  unrelenting  persecution, 
strive  to  bend  the  immortal  godlike  mind  into  unnatural 
subjection  to  their  ambitious  will." 


r 

THE   DIFFERENT   METHODIST   BODIES.  153 

CHAPTER    XL 

EXPLANATIONS. 

A  few  explanations  are  required  before  we  go  further. 
Explanation  First.      The  Different  Methodist  Bodies. 

The  Methodist  Body  to  which  my  parents  belonged,  and 
to  which  I  myself  belonged  till  I  was  twenty-one  years 
of  age,  was  the  Old  Connexion  or  Wesleyan  Body.  I 
was  a  local  preacher  in  that  Body,  and  was  expected  and 
requested  to  go  out  as  a  travelling  preacher.  But  insur- 
mountable ditficulties  lay  in  the  way.  In  the  first  place, 
none  could  be  received  as  travelling  preachers,  unless 
they  were  willing  to  go  to  whatever  part  of  the  world 
the  conference  or  the  missionary  committee  might  think 
fit  to  send  them,  and  unless  they  could  express  their  wil- 
lingness to  be  so  disposed  of  before  they  went  out.  This 
I  could  not  do.  It  was  my  conviction  that  God  had  called 
me  to  labor  in  my  own  country,  and  to  do  good  amongst 
my  own  people.  I  did  not  believe  myself  called  to  go  to 
any  foreign  country  to  preach  the  gospel,  and  I  did  not 
therefore  feel  at  liberty  to  offer  to  go  out  on  the  terras  re- 
quired. I  felt  as  if  I  should  do  wrong  to  expose  myself  to 
unseen  dangers  and  unknown  trials  and  difficulties  in  for- 
eign lands,  without  a  conviction  that  God  required  it  at 
my  hands.  And  I  could  not  think  that  I  should  be  likely 
to  succeed  in  missionary  labors,  unless  I  could  enter  on 
them  with  a  belief  that  those  were  the  labors  for  which. 
God  designed  me. 

There  was  another  difficulty.  Conference  had  made 
a  new  law,  establishing  a  new  test  of  orthodoxy,  and 
no  one  could  be  taken  out  as  a  travelling  preacher  now, 
who  could  not  subscribe  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Eternal 
Sonship,  as  taught  by  Richard  Watson  and  Jabez  Bun- 
ting, in  opposition  to  Adam  Clarke.  This  test  I  could 
not  subscribe.  I  cannot  say  that  I  altogether  disbelieved 
the  doctrine  of  the  Eternal  Sonship;  but  I  was  not  in 
a  state  of  mind   to  justify    me    in    subscribing    the  doc- 


154  EXPLANATIONS. 

trine.  Whether  the  doctrine  of  the  Eternal  Sonshlp  was 
right  or  not,  I  had  not  a  firm  belief  in  it :  and  that  was 
reason  enough  why  I-should  refuse  to  subscribe  it. 

About  this  time  Conference  passed  laws  forbidding  the 
teaching  of  writing  in  all  the  Sunday  Schools.  I  disapproved 
of  these  laws,  and  was  unable  to  bind  myself  to  enforce  them. 
I  was  obliged  therefore  to  give  up  all  thoughts  of  becom- 
ing a  travelling  preacher  in  the  Old  Connexion. 

Not  long  after  this,  disturbances  took  place  in  the  Method- 
ist society  in  Leeds,  respecting  the  introduction  of  an  organ 
into  Brunswick  Chapel.  Conference,  through  the  impor- 
tunities of  some  rich  people,  had  broken  through  its  own 
laws,  and  given  authority  for  the  introduction  of  an  organ 
into  Brunswick  Chapel  contrary  to  the  wishes  of  a  great 
part  of  the  members,  trustees,  local  preachers,  and  leaders. 
I  of  course  disapproved  of  this  proceeding  on  the  part  of  Con- 
ference. I  had  heard  the  Rev.  Joseph  Suttcliffe  speak  very 
seriously  and  with  great  and  sorrowful  dissatisfaction  of  the 
proceedings  of  those  who  were  then  at  the  head  of  Meth- 
odistical  aifairs,  and  though  I  did  not,  at  the  time,  rightly 
understand  him,  events  that  took  place  afterAvards,  both 
brought  his  words  to  my  mind,  and  showed  me  their  mean- 
ing. In  consequence  of  Avhat  I  saw,  I  began  to  be  greatly 
dissatisfied  with  the  manner  in  which  things  were  carried  on 
in  the  society. 

A  division  took  place  in  Leeds,  and  in  several  other 
places,  and  the  seceders  formed  a  new  body,  called  tlie 
Protestant  Methodists.  I  left  the  old  Body  at  the  snme  time, 
but  haviiig  heard  favorable  accounts  of  the  Methodist 
New  Connexion,  I  joined  that  community.  This  Body 
had  seceded  from  the  Old  Connexion  some  thirty  years 
before,  under  the  Leadership  of  Alexander  Kilham.  Kil- 
ham  was  a  great  reformer  both  in  religion  and  politics. 
He  sympathized  with  the  French  revolutionists,  and  with 
the  English  religious  Latitudinarians.  He  was  a  great 
admirer  of  Robert  Robinson  of  Cambridge,  and  rcj^rintcd, 
in  his  periodical,  the  3Iefhodist  Monitor',  his  writings  on 
religious  liberty.  He  denounced  all  human  creeds,  and 
proclaimed  the  Bible  the  one  sole  authority  in  the  church 
both  in  matters  of  doctrine  and  matters  of  duty.  Tlie 
conference  of  the  Body  was  to  consist  of  one-half  preachers 


I   WAS  JUSTIFIED   IN   MY   COURSE.  155 

and  the  other  half  laymen.  In  the  circuit  and  society- 
meetings  the  power  was  to  be  divided  in  the  same  way.  A 
list  of  doctrines  generally  held  in  the  Body  was  afterwards 
drawn  up  and  published,  but  was  not  put  forward  as 
an  authoritative  creed.  The  writings  of  Wesley  and  Fletcher 
were  referred  to,  but  not  as  authorities,  but  only  as  works 
to  be  consulted.  I  found  on  looking  through  the  rules, 
that  there  was  nothing  to  hinder  me  from  becoming  a  trav- 
elling preacher  in  this  Body.  I  offered  myself  as  a  mem- 
ber, and  was  received.  I  was  then  sent  out  as  a  travelling 
preacher ;  and  it  is  to  this  Body  chiefly  that  I  refer  in  this 
work. 

I  entered  the  ministry  with  the  full  understanding  that 
I  should  have  perfect  Christian  liberty  both  of  thought 
and  speech, — that  nothing  was  required  of  any  minister 
but  a  belief  in  the  New  Testament,  a  life  in  accordance 
with  its  teachings,  and  the  abilities  necessary  to  fit  him 
for  his  work.  The  perfection  of  the  Scriptures,  both  as  a 
rule  of  faith  and  a  rule  of  life,  was  one  of  the  first  arti- 
cles in  the  connexional  list  of  doctrines,  and  each  preacher 
was  left  to  interpret  the  Scriptures  for  himself 

To  show  that  the  liberty  I  took  in  revising  my  creed 
was  in  full  agreement  with  the  principles  on  which  the 
Body  to  which  I  belonged  was  founded,  I  will  give  a  quo- 
tation or  two  from  the  Founder's  works. 

"Subscription  to  all  human  creeds  implies  two  disposi- 
tions contrary  to  true  religion,  love  of  dominion  over  con- 
science in  the  imposer,  and  slavery  in  the  subscribers.  The 
first  usurps  the  right  of  Christ ;  the  last  implies  allegiance 
to  a  pretender."  Vol.  I,  page  77. 

"The  revelation  itself  is  infallible,  and  the  Author  of  it 
has  given  it  me  to  examine;  but  the  establishment  of  a 
given  meaning  of  it  renders  examination  needless,  and  per- 
haps dangerous."  P.  78. 

"  I  have  no  patience  with  those  who  cover  their  own 
stupidity,  pride,  or  laziness,  with  a  pretended  acquiescence 
in  the  unexamined  opinions  of  men  who  very  probably 
never  examined  their  own  opinions  themselves,  but  pro- 
fessed those  which  lay  nearest  at  hand,  and  which  best 
suited  their  base  secular  interest."  Vol.  II,  p.  340. 

"  I  am   seriously  of  opinion,  and  I  wish  all   my  readers 


156  EXPLANATIONS. 

would  seriously  consider  it,  that  real  Christianity  will 
never  thoroughli/  prevail  and  flourish  in  the  world,  till  the  pro- 
feasors  of  it  are  brought  to  be  upon  better  terms  with  one 
another ;  lay  aside  their  mutual  jealousies  and  animosities^ 
and  live  as  brethren  in  sincere  harmony  and  love  ;  but  ivhich 
will,  I  apprehend,  never  be,  till  conscience  is  left  entirely  free; 
and  the  plain  BIBLE  become  in  FACT,  as  it  is  in  PRO- 
FESSION, the  ONLY  rule  of  their  religious  faith  and 
practice."  P.  271. 

Such  were  the  sentiments  which  Alexander  Kilham 
thought  proper  to  publish  on  the  subject  of  creeds. 

He  adds,  that  he  did  so  for  the  purpose  of  "  giving  to 
our  people  and  others  suitable  views  of  religious  liberty  in 
general,  AND  OF  WHAT  OUGHT  TO  BE  ESTAB- 
LISHED AMONG  US  IN  PARTICULAR." 

In  all  I  did,  then,  both  in  endeavoring  to  bring  my 
views  into  harmony  with  the  teachings  of  Christ,  and  in 
suo-orestino;  reforms  in  the  laws  and  institutions  of  the  Bodv, 
I  acted  in  perfect  accordance  with  the  prmciples  on  which 
the  Connexion  was  founded.  Whether  the  principle  was  a 
good  one  or  not  may  be  questioned:  all  I  say  is,  it  sanc- 
tioned my  course. 

Explanation  Second.     Immoralities. 

What  I  say  of  immoralities  in  ministers  and  members 
of  the  Church  refers  chiefly  to  ministers  and  members  of 
the  New  Connexion.  I  must  not  however  be  understood 
as  saying  that  the  ministers  and  members  of  the  Old  Con- 
nexion were  free  from  such  vices.  They  were  not.  James 
Etchells,  the  minister  who  drank  sixteen  glasses  of  intoxi- 
cating drinks  on  one  round  of  pastoral  calls,  and  John 
Farrar,  his  superintendent,  whom  he  got  suspended  for 
drunkenness,  and  Richard  Wilson,  who  opened  the  first 
spirit  shop  in  my  native  town,  and  corrupted  the  people 
all  round  the  country,  and  Timothy  Bcntley,  the  great 
Brewer  and  Poisoner-General  of  the  bodies  and  souls  of 
the  Yorkshire  people,  and  Jolin  Falkener,  of  New  Castle- 
on-Tyne,  the  wholesale  Bcershop-Keeper,  &c.,  were  all 
members  and  high  officials  in  the  Wesleyan  Body.  And 
I  never  heard  of  a  man  being  cither  kept  out  or  put  out 
of  the  Wesleyan  Connexion  either  for  being  a  Brewer,  a 


IMMOEALITIES   OF   THE   CHURCH.  157 

Distiller,  a  Spirit  Merchant,  a  Ginshop  Keeper,  a  Publi- 
can, a  Pawnbroker,  or  a  Beersh  op-keeper.  And  I  never 
heard  of  the  Conference  doing  anything  to  promote  teeto- 
talism,  or  the  suppression  of  the  liquor  trSde.  The  rules 
and  teachings  of  Wesley,  and  the  principles  of  Christ  on 
this  subject,  were  as  little  cared  for  in  the  Old  as  in  the 
New  Connexion. 

There  were  points  though  in  which  the  Old  Connexion 
seemed  to  me  superior  to  the  New.  There  seemed  more 
hearty  religiousness  in  the  Old  Connexion  than  in  the 
New.  The  preachers  in  the  Old  Connexion  seemed  to  be 
a  higher  order  of  men,  both  in  piety  and  intelligence.  They 
seemed  to  be  kinder  too  to  each  other,  less  jealous,  less  en- 
vious, and  less  disposed  to  annoy  and  persecute  one  another. 
And  they  worked  harder.  They  had  more  of  the  spirit  of 
^yesley.  They  were  less  anxious  to  steal  sheep  from  other 
folds,  and  more  disposed  to  go  out  into  the  wilderness  to 
bring  in  those  which  were  astray.  With  many  of  the  New 
Connexion  members  religion  Avas  too  much  of  a  form  and 
a  name  :  with  an  immense  number  in  the  Old  Connexion 
it  was  a  life  and  a  power.  Hence  the  Old  Connexion 
prospered,  while  the  New  Connexion  languished  and  de- 
clined. The  New  Connexion  trusted  to  their  democratic 
principles  of  church  government  for  additions,  and  were 
disappointed.  The  Old  Connexion  trusted  to  honest,  zea- 
lous, Christian  work,  and  succeeded.  The  Old  Connexion 
bred  great  and  mighty  men,  the  New  Connexion  bred  weak 
and  little  ones.  The  New  Connexion  Avas  afraid  of  superior 
men,  and  if  any  made  their  appearance,  drove  them  away, 
as  in  the  case  of  Richard  Watson  and  others ;  the  Old  Con- 
nexion welcomed  such  men,  and  used  them,  and  reajDcd 
from  their  labors  rich  harvests  of  blessing.  I  might  my- 
self perhaps,  if  my  way  into  its  ministry  had  not  been 
blocked  np,  have  been  much  more  happy  and  useful  in  the 
Old  Connexion  than  in  the  New,  and  have  had  a  very 
different  story  to  tell  in  my  old  age,  from  that  which  I  am 
telling  you  now.     I  don't  know. 

No  ;  I  don't  know.  It  is  quite  possible  that  I  was  so 
formed, — that  religious  freedom  was  so  essential  to  the  soul 
God  had  given  me, — that  I  should  have  broken  through 
the  enclosures  of  any  sect,  and  made  for  myself  a  history 


158  EXPLANATIONS. 

like  that  which  I  am  now  writing.  But  speculations  on 
such  subjects  are  all  vain.  A  man  can  live  but  once,  and  in 
one  way,  and  all  we  can  do  now  is  to  live  well  for  the  fu- 
ture,— as  well  as  we  can.     God  help  us. 

God  will  help  us.  And  we  must  not  suppose  that  be- 
cause we  have  not  had  the  lot  which  imagination  pictures 
as  most  desirable,  we  have  lived  in  vain.  Let  us  look 
on  matters  in  a  more  cheerful  light.  The  world,  and  all 
our  affairs,  are  in  the  hands  of  an  all-perfect  God,  and  al- 
ways have  been,  and  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  that  with 
regard  to  myself,  He  has  done  all  things  well.  I  meant 
to  do  right  from  the  first.  I  never  wickedly  departed 
from  God.  I  erred  unintentionally  and  unexpectedly.  I 
erred  seeking  for  the  truth.  I  erred  praying  to  God  to 
lead  me  right.  And  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  my 
course  was  not  entirely  of  myself,  but  was  a  discipline  ap- 
pointed me  by  a  higher  j>ower,  and  meant  to  further  some 
desirable  end.  So  I  will  go  on  hoping  and  rejoicing,  in- 
terpreting God's  doings  as  favorably  as  I  can,  and  be- 
lieving, that  what  I  know  not  now,  I  shall  know  hereafter. 
And  all  the  time  I  will  rejoice  in  God's  love,  and  sing 
Glory,  Hallelujah. 

Explanation   Third.     Cliristianity  and    Ilethodism   not   to 

Blame. 

Do  not  let  any  one  judge  of  Christianity  or  Methodism, 
nor  even  of  the  whole  body  of  the  Methodist  Church, 
from  the  cases  of  immorality  which  I  have  found  it  neces- 
sary to  name.  Christianity  and  real  Wesleyau  JNIethodism 
are  as  opposed  to  bad  trades  and  bad  deeds  as  light  is  to 
darkness.  And  bad  as  things  were  in  the  churches  to 
which  I  have  referred,  a  large  portion,  if  not  the  great 
bulk  of  the  members,  were  sincere  Christians,  fearing  God 
and  working  righteousness.  Nor  were  all  the  preachers 
bad-hearted  or  cruel  men.  It  often  happens  that  a  few 
control  the  many.  And  the  ruling  few  arc  often  worse 
than  the  many  wiiom  they  rule.  The  least  worthy  mem- 
bers of  the  church  are  often,  like  Diotrephcs,  ea_ger  for  the 
pre-eminence,  while  the  best  are  modest  and  retiring.  It 
is  not  always  the  cream  that  comes  to  the  top,  either  in  ci- 
vil or  religious  society :   it  is  sometimes  the  scum.     And 


]^rETHODISM   AND  CHRISTIANITY  NOT  TO  BLAME.    159 

my  readers  must  take  these  things  into  account  while 
reading  my  story.  The  early  Methodist  churches  were 
blessed  organizations,  bitterly  as  Wesley  and  Fletcher  la- 
mented their  shortcomings  and  backslidings.  With  all  their 
faults  they  were  the  lights  of  the  world,  and  the  salt  of  the 
earth.  They  are  so  still.  They  were  so  in  the  days  of  which 
I  write.  And  the  same  may  be  said  of  other  churches. 
They  fall  very  far  short  of  the  perfection  of  Christian 
knowledge  and  holiness,  but  they  are  as  far  in  advance 
of  a  godless  world,  as  Christianity  is  in  advance  of  them.  I 
think  it  no  objection  to  Christians  or  to  Christian  churches 
that  they  do  not  at  once  embody  and  exemplify  Christian 
truth  and  virtue  in  all  their  fullness,  any  more  than  I  think 
it  an  objection  to  men  of  science  and  scientific  associations  that 
they  do  not  know  and  set  forth  all  the  laws  of  the  material 
universe.  Men  are  finite,  while  Nature  and  Christianity 
are  infinite.  Christianity  will  always  be  ahead  of  churches, 
and  nature  will  always  be  ahead  of  science,  as  God  will 
always  be  ahead  of  man.  I  would  have  churches  and  min- 
isters improve,  and  I  would  tell  them  of  their  faults  and 
shortcomings  that  they  may  see  where  improvement  is 
wanted,  but  I  would  not  on  any  account  do  them  injustice, 
or  give  countenance  to  the  infidel  slander  that  the  church 
is  worse  than  the  godless  world,  or  a  twentieth  part  as  bad. 
And  though  I  would  explain  how  unhappily  I  was  in- 
fluenced by  the  errors  and  misdoings  of  my  brethren,  that 
I  may  make  my  apostacy  from  Christ  intelligible,  I  have 
no  desire  to  make  the  impression  that  all  with  "whom  I 
came  in  uncomfortable  collision  were  great  sinners,  while  I 
was  a  meek  and  faultless  saint.  I  know  the  contrary. 
There  were  errors  and  failings  on  both  sides.  I  may  some- 
times think  '  I  was  more  sinned  against  than  sinning,'  but 
at  other  times  I  am  ashamed  and  confounded  at  my  great 
and  grievous  errors.  God  forgive  me.  I  was  dreadfully 
tried  at  times  by  my  brethren ;  but  my  brethren  were  tried 
by  me  at  other  times  past  all  endurance.  God  only  know^s 
which  was  most  to  blame;  but  I  was  bad  enough.  If  either 
I  or  my  brethren  had  been  as  wise  and  good  as  men  should 
strive  to  be,  both  they  and  I  might  have  had  a  very  differ- 
ent story  to  tell ;  a  story  much  more  agreeable  to  our  read- 
ers and  much  more  creditable  to  ourselves.     But  the  past 


160  EXPLANATIONS. 

is  past,  and  my  brethren,  most  of  them,  have  gone  to  judg- 
ment, and  I  am  hastening  after ;  and  it  behooves  me  to  tell 
as  fair  a  story,  and  to  tell  it  in  as  meek  and  lowly  and 
loving  a  spirit  as  possible.  And  I  here  declare,  that  if  any 
expression  of  bitterness,  or  any  statement  savoring  of  harsh- 
ness or  injustice,  escaj)es  my  lips,  I  wish  it  softened,  and 
brought  into  harmony  with  perfect  truth  and  charity. 

It  is  very  difficult,  when  a  man  is  giving  an  account 
of  his  life,  to  be  strictly  just  and  impartial.  Perhaps  it  is 
impossible.  It  is  very  difficult,  when  he  is  telling  of  his 
trials,  to  keep  from  all  expressions  of  strong  and  unpleasant 
feelins;  towards  those  whom  he  regards  as  the  causes  of  his 
trials.  Perhaps  this  also  is  impossible.  My  readers  must 
consider  this,  and  make  allowances  both  for  me  and  my 
brethren. 

And  both  my  readers  and  I  must  try  to  bear  in  mind, 
that  men  are  not  the  sole  actors  in  the  pitiable  blun- 
ders and  melancholy  tragedies  of  their  lives.  God  had  to 
do  with  the  descent  of  Joseph  into  Egypt.  His  brethren 
were  the  visible  actors,  but  a  Great  Invisible  Actor  di- 
rected and  controlled  their  doings.  Our  ignorance  and  our 
vices  are  our  own,  but  the  form  they  take  in  action,  and 
the  effects  they  produce,  are  God's.  Shimei's  wickedness 
was  his  own,  but  it  was  God  that  caused  it  to  shoAV  itself  in 
throwing  stones  at  David.  All  our  trials  arc,  in  truth, 
from  God,  and  it  would  be  well  for  us  to  regard  them  in 
that  light.  And  wc  ought  no  more  to  be  malignantly  re- 
sentful towards  the  men  whom  God  makes  use  of  to  try  us, 
than  we  ought  to  murmur  against  God.  We  should  try  to 
go  through  afl  with  the  meek  and  quiet  sjjirit  Avith  Avhich 
Jesus  went  through  the  still  greater  trials  that  lay  in  His 
path.  And  in  sjieaking  of  our  trials,  wc  should  try  to 
exhibit  the  sweet  forgiving  temper  that  shines  out  so  glori- 
ously in  the  life  and  death  of  the  Redeemer.  And  if  we 
can  go  a  step  farther,  and  rejoice  in  tribulation,  and  smile 
in  peaceful  tranquility  at  the  erring  but  divinely  guided  ac- 
tors in  our  trials,  so  much  the  better.  And  if  wc  can  believe 
that  all  things  work  together  for  good  not  only  to  them  that 
love  God,  but  even  to  those  who  for  a  time  arc  unwittingly 
separated  from  God,  why  should  we  not  '  rejoice  evermore, 
and  in  everything  give  thanks?'  My  gracious  God,  I  know 


MY  OWN  DEFECTS.  161 

that  there  are  expressions  in  this  book  tfttit  might  have  been 
better, — that  feelings  sometimes  show  themselves  that  are 
not  the  perfection  of  Christian  love  and  meekness ;  and  I 
ask  Thee  in  Thy  mercy  to  forgive  them  all.  And  I  pray 
Thee  so  to  influence  my  soul  for  the  time  to  come,  and  to 
enable  me  so  to  use  my  tongue  and  pen,  that  all  I  say  and 
write  may  savor  of  Jesus,  be  in  agreement  with  my  Chris- 
tian profession,  and  tend  to  the  instruction  and  spiritual 
improvement  of  my  hearers  and  readers. 

Explanation  Fourth.  .  3Iy  Own  Defects. 

My  character  was  very  defective  in  my  early  days.  I 
have  felt  this  a  hundred  times  while  I  have  been  writing  and 
revising  the  foregoing  pages.  I  was  wanting  in  humility. 
There  were  some  kinds  of  pride  from  which  I  was  pro- 
bably free ;  but  there  were  others  of  which  I  had  more 
than  my  share.  And  I  was  lacking  in  meekness.  I  could 
control  myself  and  keep  quite  calm  in  a  public  debate ;  but 
could  be  angry  and  resentful  in  other  cases.  I  was  not 
sufficiently  forbearing.     I  was  not  sufficiently  forgiving. 

And  I  was  too  critical,  too  pugnacious,  too  controversial. 
I  was  too  much  in  the  habit  of  looking  for  defects  in  M'hat 
I  heard  and  read  :  defects  in  style ;  errors  in  thought ;  mis- 
takes in  reasoning ;  faults  in  arrangement ;  and  improprie- 
ties in  manner  and  spirit. 

Considering  that  I  was  to  a  great  extent  self-taught,  that 
much  that  I  learned  I  learned  after  I  had  become  almost  a 
man,  this  perhaps  was  natural ;  but  it  was  a  disadvantage. 
It  would  have  been  better  if  I  had  sought  only  for  the 
true,  the  good,  the  beautiful  in  what  I  heard,  and  read,  and 
saw.  I  ought,  perhaps,  instead  of  exercising  my  critical 
powers  on  others,  to  have  contented  myself  vnt\\  exercising 
them  on  my  own  character  and  performances,  and  with  en- 
deavoring in  all  things  to  set  an  example  of  what  was  worthy 
of  imitation.  It  may  be  that  I  was  naturally,  constitutionally 
critical ;  but  that  does  not  make  it  right  or  wise.  I  ought 
to  have  warred  with  my  constitutional  propensities,  and  to 
have  kept  my  critical  tendencies  within  the  l)ounds  of  pru- 
dence and  charity. 

But  this  wisdom  was  too  high  for  me  in  my  early  days, 
and  I  fear  that  while  I  was  pressing  attention  to  practical 
11 


162  EXPLANATIONS. 

matters  on  others,  I  was  myself  too  much  bugied  in  doctrinal 
matters.  I  was  too  zealous  against  certain  doctrines  while 
rebuking  others  for  being  too  zealous  foi'  them.  While 
they  were  too  doctrinal  and  controversial  positively,  I  was 
too  doctrinal  and  controversial  negatively.  They  erred  in 
going  too  far ;  I  was  too  zealous  in  pushing  them  back. 

In  many  things  my  enemies  were  wrong  :  but  there  were 
other  things  in  which  I  was  not  right.  They  were  very 
foolish;  and  I  was  far  from  wise.  I  see  it,  I  feel  it  all, 
and  I  lament  it  too.  And  still  I  feel  the  remains  of  my  old 
defects  and  vices  clinging  to  me.  I  have  still  great  need 
of  the  mercy  of  God,  and  of  the  forbearance  and  kind  consid- 
eration of  my  brethren.  God  help  me,  if  it  be  not  too  late, 
to  improve  both  in  wisdom  and  in  Christian  virtue.  My 
Gracious  God,  it  is  Thy  wish  that  Thy  people  ^should  be 
conformed  to  the  image  of  Thy  Son,  that  He  might  be  the 
first-born  among  many  brethren.'  Oh,  if  I  could  but  ap- 
proach that  point,  and  be  worthy  to  take  some  humble 
place  as  a  brother  of  that  glorious  embodiment  of  all  moral 
and  spiritual  excellence,  what  would  I  not  give, — what 
would  I  not  do  !     If  it  be  possible. 

Make  me,  by  thy  transforming  love. 
Dear  Saviour,  daily  more  like  Thee. 

And  while  the  blessed  process  of  transformation  is  going 
on,  keep  me,  O  Thou  Friend  and  Saviour  of  mankind, 
from  every  evil  word  and  deed,  and  from  every  great  and 
grievous  error. 

Explanation  Fifth.     Theology  and  Theologians. 

If  any  think  I  have  been  too  severe  in  my  remarks  on 
theology  and  theologians,  and  on  the  preachers  who  mock 
their  hearers  with  theological  vanities,  and  ])iizzlc  them 
with  their  senseless  theological  dialect,  let  them  read  the 
remarks  of  the  Rev.  Joseph  Parker,  D.  D.,G.  Gilfillan,  Al- 
bert Barnes,  John  Wesley,  Richard  Baxter,  and  others  on 
this  subject.  Quotations  from  their  writings  may  be  found 
farther  on  in  the  volume.  We  would  give  a  few  of  tiieir 
remarks  here,  but  we  must  now  hasten  on  with  our  story. 


WHAT     FOLLOWED   EXPULSION.  163 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   STORY   CONTINUED.      WHAT   FOLLOWED  EXPULSION. 
DESPERATE    WORD    FIGHTING.       ABUSE. 

I  was  expelled  on  a  Saturday  afternoon.  I  was  unable  to 
stay  till  the  closing  scene,  as  I  had  an  engagement  to  preach 
anniversary  sermons  on  the  Sunday,  some  thirty  miles  away. 
But  the  news  soon  reached  me,  and  I  received  it  with 
strange  and  indescribable  emotions.  I  felt  that  something 
very  important  had  happened, — that  I  was  placed  in  a  new 
and  serious  position,  and  was  entering  on  a  new  and  un- 
tried way  of  life ;  but  I  little  dreamt  what  the  results  would 
be.  I  expected  an  eventful  future,  but  not  the  kind  of 
future  that  was  really  waiting  for  me.  I  anticipated  trials, 
and  sorrows,  and  great  changes ;  but  how  strangely  differ- 
ent the  realities  have  proved  from  wdiat  I  anticipated  in  my 
fevered  dreams  !  But  I  had  strong  faith  in  God,  and  a 
firm  trust  in  His  all-perfect  Providence,  and  no  one  saw 
me  tremble  or  turn  pale. 

I  had  not  been  expelled  long  when  I  found  myself  face 
to  face  with  a  terrible  host  of  trials.  Some  who  had  pro- 
mised to  stand  by  my  side  took  fright,  and  left  me  to  my 
fate.  Some  found  their  interests  were  endangered  by  their 
attachment  to  me,  and  fell  away.  Some  were  influenced  by 
the  threats  of  their  masters,  and  some  by  the  tears  and  en- 
treaties of  their  kindred,  and  reluctantly  joined  the  ranks 
of  my  enemies.  Some  thought  I  should  have  yielded  a 
point  or  two,  and  were  vexed  at  what  they  called  my  ob- 
stinacy. There  were  fearful  and  melancholy  changes. 
People  who  had  always  heretofore  received  me  with  smiles 
of  welcome,  now  looked  cold  and  gloomy.  Some  raged, 
some  wept,  and  some  embraced  me  with  unspeakable  ten- 
derness ;  while  some  wished  me  dead,  and  said  it  had  been 
better  for  me  if  I  had  never  been  born. 

One  man,  a  person  of  considerable  influence,  who  had 
encouraged  me  in  my  movements,  and  joined  me  in  lament- 
ing the  shortcomings  of  the  Connexion,  and  in  condemning 
the  conduct  of  my  opponents,  no  sooner  saw  that   I  was 


164  THE    STORY   CONTINUED. 

doomed,  than  lie  sent  me  a  most  unfeeling  letter.  I  met 
the  postman  and  got  the  letter  in  the  street,  and  read  it  as  I 
walked  along.  It  pained  me  terribly,  but  it  comforted  me 
to  think  that  it  had  not  fallen  into  the  hands  of  my  delicate 
and  sensitive  wife.  That  no  other  eye  might  see  it,  and  no 
other  soul  be  afflicted  with  the  treachery  and  cruelty  of  the 
writer,  I  tore  it  in  pieces,  and  threw  it  into  the  Tyne,  and 
kept  the  matter  a  secret  from  those  whose  souls  it  might 
have  shocked  too  rudely  for  endurance. 

Another  man,  who  had  said  to  me  a  short  time  before 
my  expulsion,  that  whoever  else  might  close  their  doors 
against  me,  his  would  always  be  open,  proved  as  faith- 
less as  the  basest.  I  called  one  day  at  his  shop.  As 
soon  as  he  saw  me,  he  turned  away  his  eyes,  and  stood  mo- 
tionless and  speechless  behind  the  counter,  as  if  agitated 
with  painful  and  unutterable  passion.  I  saw  his  family 
move  hurriedly  from  the  room  behind  the  shop  to  another 
room,  as  if  afraid  lest  I  should  step  forwnrd  into  their  pre- 
sence. The  man  kept  his  door  open  sure  enough,  his  shop 
door ;  but  his  heart  was  closed,  and  he  never  spoke  to  me 
more  as  long  a,s  he  lived. 

One  day  I  went  with  a  brother  of  mine  to  the  house 
of  a  tradesman  near  Gateshead,  a  member  and  a  leading  man 
in. the  New  Connexion,  on  a  matter  of  business.  As  soon 
as  the  person  saw  me,  he  began  to  abuse  me  in  a  very  ex- 
travagant manner.  I  had  always  had  a  favorable  opinion 
of  the  man,  and  I  quietly  answered,  "  I  can  excuse  your 
severity ;  for  you  no  doubt  are  acting  conscientiously." 
"  That  is  more  than  I  believe  you  are  doing/'  he  answered, 
and  turned  away. 

There  was  great  excitement  throughout  the  whole  Con- 
nexion. And  while  many  were  transported  with  rage,  great 
numbers  took  my  part.  The  feeling  in  my  favor  was  both 
strong  and  very  general.  One-third  of  the  whole  Con- 
nexion probably  separated  from  my  opponents,  and  formed 
themselves  into  a  new  society.  Several  ministers  joined 
them,  and  had  not  the  chapels  been  secured  to  the  Con- 
ference, it  is  probable  that  tlie  greater  portion  of  the  com- 
munity would  have  seceded.  As  it  was,  the  existence  of  the 
Body  seemed  in  peril,  and  the  leaders  found  it  necessary 
to  strain  every  nerve  to  save   it  from  utter  destruction. 


ABUSE   AND   PERSECUTION.  165 

And  they  were  not  particular  as  to  the  means  they  used. 
Before  my  expulsion  even  my  enemies  had  considered  me 
a  virtuous,  godly  man,  and  acknowledged  me  to  be  a  most 
laborious  and  successful  minister.  Now  they  fabricated  and 
circulated  all  manner  of  slanderous  reports  respecting  me. 
One  day  they  gave  it  out  that  I  had  broken  my  teetotal 
pledge,  and  had  been  taken  up  drunk  out  of  the  gutter,  and 
wheeled  home  in  a  wheelbarrow.  Then  it  was  discovered 
that  I  had  not  broken  my  pledge,  but  I  had  been  seen  nib- 
bling a  little  Spanish  juice,  so  it  was  said  I  was  eating 
opium,  and  killing  myself  as  fast  as  the  poison  could 
destroy  me. 

At  another  time  it  was  said  I  had  gone  stark  mad,  and 
had  been  smothered  to  death  between  two  beds.  A  friend 
came,  pale  and  dismally  sorrowful,  to  condole  with  my  wife 
on  the  dreadful  catastrophe,  and  was  himself  almost  mad 
with  delight  when  he  found  that  I  was  in  the  parlor  writing, 
as  well  and  as  sane  as  usual. 

Then  it  was  reported  that  I  had  applied  for  a  place  in 
the  ministry  among  the  Calvinists,  though  I  had  up  to 
that  time  professed  views  at  variance  with  Calvinism,  and 
had  even  objected  to  be  a  hired  minister.  When  I  called  for 
the  names  of  the  parties  to  whom  I  had  made  the  offer, 
and  engaged  to  give  a  large  reward  if  my  slanderers  would 
produce  them,  they  found  it  was  another  Joseph  that  had 
applied  for  the  place,  and  not  Joseph  Barker.  But  the 
death  of  one  slander  seemed  to  be  the  birth  of  two  or  three 
fresh  ones.  And  sometimes  opposite  slanders  sprang  up 
together.  "  If  he  had  been  a  good  man,"  said  one,  "  he 
would  have  stojDped  in  the  Connexion  quietly,  and  waited 
for  reform  !  "  "  If  he  had  been  an  honest  man,"  said  an- 
other, "  he  would  have  left  the  Connexion  long  ago,  and 
not  remained  in  a  community  that  he  thought  in  error."  I 
had  been  "  too  hasty"  for  one,  and  "  too  slow"  for  another. 
One  wrote  to  assure  me  that  I  should  die  a  violent  death 
in  less  than  eighteen  months.  Another  said  he  foresaw  me 
lying  on  my  death -bed,  with  Satan  sitting  on  my  breast, 
ready  to  carry  away  my  soul  to  eternal  torments.  One 
sent  me  a  number  of  my  pamphlets  blotted  and  torn,  packed 
up  with  a  piece  of  wood,  for  the  carriage  of  which  I  was 
charged  from  four  to  five  shillings.    Another  sent  me  a  num- 


166  THE   STORY   CONTINUED. 

ber  of  my  publications  defaced  in  another  way,  with  offen- 
sive enclosures  that  do  not  admit  of  description. 

At  one  time  it  was  reported  that  I  had  died  suddenly  at 
Leeds.  "  After  lecturing  there  one  night,"  the  story  said, 
"a  certain  person  got  upon  the  platform  to  oppose  me,  and 
I  was  so  frightened,  that  I  first  turned  pale,  then  fainted, 
and  in  two  hours  breathed  my  last."  I  was  preaching  at 
Penrith,  in  Cumberland,  some  seventy  or  eighty  miles  away, 
at  the  time  I  was  said  to  have  died  at  Leeds. 

Some  weeks  later  it  was  rumoral  that  I  had  destroyed 
myself  at  Otley.  The  maker  of  the  tale  in  this  case  had 
been  very  particular,  and  given  his  story  the  appearance 
of  great  truthfulness.  He  said  I  had  gone  to  lecture  at  Otley, 
and  on  my  arrival  there,  was  found  to  be  more  than  usually 
thoughtful  and  depressed.  I  lectured  with  my  usual  free- 
dom and  power,  but  seemed  oppressed  with  some  mysterious 
sorrow.  After  the  lecture,  instead  of  going  along  with  my 
host,  I  unaccountably  disappeared,  and  though  my  friends 
sought  for  me  and  inquired  for  me  alb  about  the  town, 
I  was  nowhere  to  be  found.  In  the  morning,  as  the  son 
of  my  host  was  seeking  for  some  cows  in  a  wood  on  the 
side  of  the  Chevin,  he  found  me  dead  and  cold,  with  my 
throat  cut,  and  tlie  razor  in  my  hand  with  which  I  had 
done  the  deadly  deed.  The  news  soon  spread,  and  my  body 
was  taken  back  to  Otley,  where  an  inquest  was  held. 
The  verdict  was  that  I  had  died  by  my  own  hand,  in  a  fit 
of  temporary  insanity. 

These  stories  were  printed  and  published,  and  circu- 
lated through  the  whole  country.  They  were  shouted  aloud 
in  the  street  opposite  my  own  door,  in  the  hearing  of  my 
wife  and  family,  during  my  absence.  At  first  my  wife  and 
children  were  terribly  alarmed  when  they  heard  men  cry- 
ing, "  The  melancholy  death  of  Mr.  Joseph  Barker."  But 
they  got  so  used  to  me  dying  and  destroying  myself  in  time, 
that  they  took  such  matters  more  calmly,  especially  as  I 
always  came  again,  and  appeared  no  Avorse  for  the  terrible 
deaths  through  which  I  had  been  made  to  pass. 

For  a  year  or  two  my  enemies  published  a  periodical 
called  The  Beacon,  every  page  of  which  they  filled  with 
malignant  slanders.  The  loss  of  members  exasperated 
them  past  measure.     The  danger  which  threatened  the  Con- 


PITIFUL    SLANDERS.  167 

nexion  drove  them  mad.  They  took  up  evil  reports  re- 
specting me  without  consideration.  They  looked  on  all  I 
did  with  an  evil  eye,  and  recklessly  charged  me  with 
wicked  devices  which  had  no  existence  but  in  their  own 
disturbed  imaginations.  One  charged  me  with  having  acted 
inconsistently  with  my  views  with  regard  to  the  use  of  mo- 
ney, and  another  with  having  acted  inconsistently  with 
my  belief  with  regard  to  baptism.  Any  tale  to  my  dis- 
credit was  welcome,  and  the  supply  of  slanderous  tales 
seemed  infinite.  They  wrested  my  words,  they  belied  my 
deeds,  they  misinterpreted  my  motives,  they  misrepresented 
the  whole  course  of  my  life,  and  the  wliole  texture  of  my 
character. 

One  of  the  pitiful  slanders  circulated  by  my  enemies 
was  the  following.  My  custom  was,  when  I  went  out  to 
lecture,  or  to  preach  anniversary  sermons,  to  charge  only  my 
coach  fares,  rendering  my  services  gratis.  For  eighteen 
years  I  never  charged  a  penny  either  for  preaching  or  lec- 
turing. But  the  people  of  Berry  Brow,  near  Huddersfield, 
said  I  had  charged  them  thirty  shillings  for  preaching  their 
anniversary  sermons,  and  the  Conference  party  took  the 
trouble  to  spread  the  contemptible  charge  through  the  Con- 
nexion. 

The  facts  of  the  case  were  these:  I  had  an  engagement  to 
preach  anniversary  sermons  at  Hanley,  in  the  Staifordshire 
Potteries.  The  Berry  Brow  people  heard  of  this,  and  as  I 
had  to  pass  their  place  on  my  way  to  Hanley,  they  request- 
ed me  to  spend  a  Sabbath  with  them,  and  preach  their  an- 
niversary sermons.  I  did  so,  and  charged  them  thirty 
shillings,  about  one-third  of  the  expenses  of  my  journey, 
taking  the  other  two-thirds  from  the  Hanley  people.  This 
was  all. 

Of  course  such  matters  would  not  be  worth  naming,  if  it 
were  not  to  show  how  much  there  was  in  the  conduct  of  my 
persecutors  to  give  me  a  dislike  to  their  character,  and  to 
prejudice  me  against  their  views. 

That  you  may  liave  an  idea  of  my  labors  as  a  preacher, 
take  the  following  account  of  one  week's  work,  when  I  was 
lecturing  against  the  infidel  Socialists,  previous  to  my  ex- 
pulsion. I  had  preached  three  times  on  the  Sunday,  walked 
six  miles,  and  attended  to  several  other  duties.  At  half  past 


168  A   HARD    week's   WORK. 

ten  at  night  I  started  by  stage  coach  for  Bolton,  a  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  away.  I  travelled  all  night,  and  all  next  day, 
outside  the  coach.  It  was  winter,  and  the  weather  was  very 
cold.  About  six  in  the  evening  I  reached  Bolton.  At 
half  past  seven  I  began  my  lecture,  in  a  place  crowded  al- 
most to  suffocation.  After  the  lecture,  I  had  an  hour  and 
a  half's  debate.  Between  eleven  and  twelve  I  went  to  bed. 
I  spent  next  day  mostly  in  writing.  At  half  past  seven 
I  began  my  second  lecture,  with  a  congregation  more  closely 
packed  than  the  night  before.  The  lecture  was  followed 
with  a  somewhat  longer  debate.  This  continued  five  nio:hts. 
On  Friday  night  I  got  to  bed  about  twelve.  At  half  past 
two  I  started  in  an  open  gig  for  Manchester,  twelve  miles 
off.  The  morning  was  very  cold.  There  was  a  severe 
frost  and  a  thick  fog.  At  Manchester  I  took  the  coach  for 
Newcastle,  and  I  rode  outside  all  day,  until  half  past  ten 
at  night.  The  Sunday  following  I  preached  three  times 
again.  And  in  this  way  I  labored  for  nearly  two  years.  I 
paid  all  my  own  expenses.  I  also  engaged  and  paid  a  per- 
son to  preach  for  me,  and  to  attend  to  my  other  duties  in 
the  circuit,  during  the  week.  If  there  was  a  loss  at  my 
meetings  I  bore  it  myself;  never  asking  any  one  for  aid. 
And  at  times  I  had  heavy  losses.  At  Manchester  once, 
after  giving  five  lectures,  I  was  eleven  pounds  out  of  pocket. 
At  Birmingham  I  had  a  loss  of  thirty-seven  pounds  on  five 
lectures.  That  was  about  the  hardest  week  I  ever  had. 
My  tongue  got  rather  white.  My  food  lost  its  relish.  My 
thoughts  kept  me  awake  after  I  lay  down  in  bed  some- 
times, and  sometimes  awoke  rae  after  I  had  gone  to  sleep. 
I  caught  myself  drawing  long  breaths  at  times.  Money 
came  into  my  head  at  prayer,  though  none  came  into  my 
pocket.  I  did  not  even  ask  for  that.  I  met  with  Combe's 
work  on  digestion  and  read  it,  but  it  did  not  help  me  much, 
either  in  digesting  my  food,  or  my  heavy  loss.  But  I  made 
no  complaints.  I  did  not  even  tell  my  wife  till  long  after, 
when  I  was  prosperous  and  comfortable  again.  And  none 
of  those  who  heard  my  lectures,  saw  in  me  any  sign  of  dis- 
couragement. I  lectured  to  my  small  audience  as  earnestly 
as  if  the  vast  amphitheatre  had  been  crowded.  And  I  ])aid 
the  whole  loss  out  of  my  own  pocket,  asking  help  from 
neither  stranger  nor  friend. 


A    HAEDER  ONE.  169 

Just  about  this  time  Mr.  Hulme,  the  son-in-law  of  my 
chief  persecutor,  set  afloat  a  story  that  I  was  getting  im- 
mensely rich  by  my  lectures,  and  demanded  that  I  should 
hand  over  my  gains  to  the  Connexional  funds.  I  could 
hardly  help  wishing  that  he  had  been  compelled  to  take 
one-half  of  my  Manchester  and  Birmingham  gains. 

I  never  charged  more  than  two-pence,  I  seldom  charged 
more  than  a  penny,  for  admission  to  my  lectures :  but  such 
were  the  crowds  that  attended,  and  such  was  the  readiness 
of  my  friends  in  different  j^laces  to  help  me  without  charge, 
that  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  I  had  a  surplus.  I  had  forty 
pounds  in  hand  with  which  to  pay  the  loss  of  thirty-seven 
at  Birmingham.  Besides,  I  sold  large  quantities  of  my 
pamphlets,  and  they  yielded  me  a  profit,  though  I  sold  my 
Avorks  eighty  or  ninety  per  cent,  cheaper  than  my  envious 
brethren  sold  theirs. 

After  my  expulsion  I  worked  harder  than  I  had  done  be- 
fore. The  following  is  only  a  part  of  one  week's  work. 
I  preached  three  times  on  the  Sunday ;  twice  to  immense 
crowds  in  the  open  air.  The  time  between  the  three  meetings 
I  spent  in  talking,  writing,  and  walking.  I  walked  fifteen 
miles.  On  JNIonday  I  wrote  a  lengthy  article  for  my  pei'i- 
odical,  the  Christian  Investigator.  At  night  I  lectured  to 
a  crowded  audience,,  and  had  a  three  hours'  discussion  after. 
About  one  I  got  to  bed.  At  five  I  was  up  to  take  the 
coach  to  INIanchester.  At  Manchester  I  carried  a  heavy  pack 
two  miles  to  the  railway  station.  I  went  by  train  to  Sand- 
bach,  then  walked  about  twenty-three  miles  to  Longton, 
carrying  my  carpet  bag,  and  some  thirty  pounds  weight 
of  books,  on  my  shoulder.  It  was  a  hot  day  in  June.  At 
Longton  I  preached  an  hour  and  a  quarter  to  about  five 
thousand  people  in  the  open  air,  and  had  a  lengthy  discus- 
sion after.  How  I  slept,  I  forget.  I  believe  I  Avas  feverish 
through  the  night.  In  the  morning  my  nose  bled  freely, 
and  I  was  better.  I  walked  six,  eight,  or  ten  miles  daily, 
carrying  my  bag  and  books  along  with  me,  and  preaching, 
or  lecturing  and  discussing,  every  night.  I  did  this  daily 
for  weeks,  and  months,  and  years.  And  I  never  charged  a 
penny  for  my  labors.  And  I  had  no  salary.  I  supported 
myself  and  my  family  by  the  sale  of  my  cheap  publications. 

Yet  one  of  the  slanders  circulated  by  my  enemies  was, 


170  NEVER   "WENT   INTO   DEBT. 

as  I  said,  that  I  acted  inconsistently  with  ray  published 
views  on  the  use  of  money.  I  taught,  as  Wesley  had  taught, 
and  as  Jesus  and  Paul  had  taught,  that  a  man  should  not 
lay  up  for  himself  treasures  on  earth, — that  money  was  a 
trust  from  God,  to  be  used  in  His  service,  for  the  good 
of  mankind.  And  I  acted  on  these  principles.  I  did  not  lay 
up  a  penny  for  myself  on  earth.  I  employed  all  I  received 
in  doing  good,  hardly  spending  enough  on  myself  and  fa- 
mily to  purchase  the  barest  necessaries.  But  my  enemies 
found  I  had  })laced  fifty  pounds  on  interest,  in  the  hands 
of  Mr.  Townsend  ;  and  away  went  the  charge  of  inconsisten- 
cy, hypocrisy,  and  what  not,  through  the  country.  There 
was  no  inconsistency  at  all  in  what  I  had  done. 

It  was  a  principle  with  me,  never  to  go  into  debt.  And 
my  plan  was,  never  to  begin  to  print  a  book,  till  I  had, 
in  the  first  place,  got  the  money  ready  to  pay  the  expense 
of  printing,  and,  in  the  second  place,  reconciled  myself  to 
lose  the  money  in  case  the  book  did  not  sell.  At  the  time 
I  placed  the  fifty  pounds  in  the  hands  of  INIr.  T.,  I  was 
preparing  to  print  a  book  that  would  cost  me  thrice  that 
amount.  I  did  print  it,  and  paid  the  expense  in  cash,  ac- 
cording to  my  principles  and  i)lan.  I  follow  the  same  plan 
still:  my  printers  like  it;  and  so  do  I.  lowed  a  dollar 
and  a  half  at  the  close  of  last  year.  The  thought  of  it 
troubled  me,  not  much,  but  still  a  little,  during  the  watch- 
night  services  at  Siloam  church.  I  had  only  owed  the  sura 
ten  hours,  and  I  paid  it  next  morning,  but  still,  the  thought 
of  the  debt  made  the  ending  of  the  old  year,  and  the  be- 
ginning of  the  new  one,  a  trifle  less  happy  than  they  might 
have  been,  if  I  had  been  entirely  straight  with  all  the  world. 

In  some  cases,  when  I  went  out  to  lecture,  the  leading 
ministers  of  the  Connexion  would  come  to  my  racetings, 
and  exciting  discussicms  followed.  These  injured  the  Con- 
nexion still  more,  for  I  invariably  gained  the  syijipathy 
of  the  audience.  On  some  occa^^ions  my  enemies  behaved 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  provoke  my  audiences  past  endu- 
rance, and  uproar  followed;  and  the  greatest  coolness  on 
my  part,  and  the  employraent  of  all  ray  influence,  were 
necessary  to  keep  the  more  excitable  of  my  friends  from 
resorting  to  violence. 

Very  curious  incidents  took  place  sometimes,  strangely 


UNLOOKED-rOR   CONFUTATION  OF   SLANDERERS.    171 

confounding  my  opponents,  and  makinf  the  impression  on 
my  friends,  and  on  myself  as  well,  that  God  hSl  specially 
mterfered  on  my  behalf.  On  more  than  one  occasion 
when  discreditable  tales  were  told  of  me  by  my  oppon  nte^ 
some  one  m  the  audience  who  knew  the  facts,  would  S 
and  tes  ify  in  my  behalf,  and  publicly  convict  iny  slandere  s 
of  falsehood  In  one  case,  at  Dudley,  Mr.  Bakewell,  who 
ad  always  taken  a  leading  part  against  me,  charged  me 
before  a  crowded  audience,  with  having  baptized  S  child 
of  ccrtam  parents  at  Hawarden  in  Wales,  a  hundred  miles 
away,  after  I  had  declared  my  belief  that  it  was  improper 
to  baptize  children.  He  adduced  some  testimony  in  siip- 
port  of  his  statement,  which  seemed  to  satisfy  many  in  the 
coutTdof  Tl^^  ^r  g-^ty  of  inconsistency.^  WlJ 

his  nrin  1    1         i  T^^""^  ^^  ^i^P°^^  ^^  ^"'^  testimony  and 
his  pretended  proofs,  but  my  solemn  denial  of  the  state- 

-  Ss  se^t  f  ^f.^^W^ly  for  me,  as  soon  as  my  opponent  took 
his  seat  a  lady  rose,  towards  the  farther  end  of  the  room 
with  a  baby  in  her  arms     "  I  wish  to  speak,"  said  the  ladyl 

she  might  be  seen  and  heard  to  better  advantage,     "/am 

"  ancul'''  .f  T-n  \^/  l^''  bakewell,"  said  the  lady, 
and  th  s  IS  the  child.     Mr.  BakewelPs  statement  is  untrue 

and  a^hed'r  r  Tl'  '^""^^^  ^^  ^^^^^^-  ^e  only  named  it 
and  asked  God's  blessing  on  it.  Here  is  my  husband  and 
he  can  testify  to  the  truth  of  this  statement."  The  lady 
stepped  down  and  the  husband  rose.  "I  am  the  Richard 
Burrows  mentioned  by  Mr.  Bakewell.     TUs    s  mylw^e 

Bate  1,"T'.^^^^^-  .  ^^'-  ^^^■^-^'  ^^id  -t  bap  zeT  Mr! 
Bakewe  Ps  statement  is  false."  That  settled  the  question, 
llieteeling  against  my  slanderer  was  tremendous.  The 
people  Avould  not  hear  him  speak  another  word. 

It  had  so  happened  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Burrows  had  been 
obliged  to  remove  from  Wales  to  the  neighborhood  of  Dud- 
ley, and  had  just  arrived  at  their  new  home.     Hearing  that 

IrJlr'^'  "'  .^"^^^>^'  '^''y  ^^^tened  to  the  meetii  ' 
and  got  there  just  in  time  to  hear  my  opponent  mention 
the.r  names  in  support  of  his  charge  of  inconsistency.  Wha 
could  be  more  natural  than  that  I  and  my  friends  sho  Id 
regard  this  remai-kable  and  happy  incident  as  a  gracious 
mterposition  of  Providence  in  our  behalf  ^  ^ 


172    SAD   EFFECT   OF   THEIR   MALICIOUS   SLANDERS. 

The  conduct  of  my  opponents  had  a  most  injurious  effect 
not  only  on  my  own  mind,  but  on  the  minds  of  my  wife 
and  children.  We  came  to  look  on  New  Connexion  Meth- 
odist preachers  as  some  of  the  worst  of  men, — as  the  very 
essence  or  embodiment  of  deceit  and  malignity ;  and  our  re- 
spect for  Methodist  preachers  generally,  and  even  for  Me- 
thodism itself,  was  greatly  abated.  The  consequence  was, 
we  were  prepared  to  move  in  almost  any  direction  that 
would  take  us  farther  away  from  our  old  associates,  and  we 
all  became,  to  some  extent,  anti-Methodistical  in  our  feel- 
ings and  sentiments. 

Exciting  meetings  like  the  one  at  Dudley  took  place  in 
almost  every  part  of  the  country.  The  numbers  attending 
them  were  so  great  that  no  room  could  hokl  them,  so  that 
I  generally  had  to  speak  in  the  open  air.  And  I  lectured 
almost  every  night,  and  often  throngh  the  day  as  well ;  and 
every  lecture  was  followed  with  discussion.  When  oppo- 
nents did  not  rise  to  assail  me,  friends  rose  to  consult  me, 
and  our  evening  meetings  often  continued  till  nearly  mid- 
night. And  I  preached  three  times  on  a  Sunday.  And 
after  every  meeting  there  was  a  crowd  of  friends  anxious  to 
talk  with  me,  or  have  my  counsel  about  the  formation  or 
management  of  societies.  Some  had  heard  strange  stories 
about  me,  and  wanted  to  know  whether  they  were  true  or 
not.  Others  had  had  discussions  with  opponents,  and  wished 
to  tell  me  how  they  had  fared.  Some  had  been  puzzled 
with  passages  of  Scripture  quoted  by  opponents,  and  they 
wished  to  know  my  views  of  their  meaning.  Some  were 
sick,  and  wanted  my  prayers.  Some  wanted  prescriptions 
as  well  as  prayers,  and  I  was  obliged  to  be  a  physician  as 
well  as  a  preacher  and  reformer.  Kcports  of  cures  wrought 
by  my  means  led  many  to  believe  I  had  the  gift  of  healing, 
and  sufferers  sought  my  aid  wherever  I  made  my  appear- 
ance. 

While  one-half  of  each  day  was  taken  up  Mith  talking, 
another  half  was  taken  up  with  writing.  I  had  hundreds 
of  letters  to  write,  and  hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  all  kinds 
of  letters  to  read.  I  had,  besides,  a  new  periodical  on  hand, 
for  which  I  was  expected  to  provide  the  principal  part  of  the 
articles.  And  special  attacks  on  me  or  on  my  views  re- 
quired a  constant  succession  of  pamphlets. 


UTTERLY   WEAEIED.  173 

In  addition  to  my  press  of  work,  I  had  no  small  share 
of  anxiety.  My  wife  was  greatly  tried,  and  saw  no  prospect 
of  a  speedy  end  to  her  trials.  When  expelled  I  was  living 
in  the  preacher's  house,  and  had  the  preacher's  furniture, 
and  many  in  the  circuit  considered  that  I  had  a  right  to 
them,  and  advised  me  to  keej)  them,  and  set  the  Conference 
partly  at  defiance.  I  however  refused  to  retain  possession 
of  property  with  a  doubtful  title,  and  gave  all  uf).  And 
now  I  had  not  a  chair  on  which  to  sit,  nor  a  bed  on  which 
to  sleep.  And  the  little  money  I  had  was  wanted  for  the 
printers.  My  friends  provided  for  me  in  a  way,  but  not  in 
the  way  to  satisfy  an  anxious  mother.  One  child  was  taken 
by  one  family,  and  another  by  another,  while  I  and  my  wife 
were  accommodated  by  a  third.  And  one  of  the  children 
was  unkindly  treated,  and  the  rest  were  not  content;  and 
no  house  could  be  a  home  to  my  wife  which  was  not  her 
own ;  and  no  condition  could  make  her  content  while  de- 
prived of  the  company  of  her  children.  And  I  saw  her 
heart  was  the  seat  of  fearful  conflicts. 

For  several  months  I  went  through  my  arduous  and 
ceaseless  labors,  and  my  varied  and  exhausting  trials,  with- 
out apparent  injury  to  my  health.  At  length,  however, 
continual  excitement,  intense  thought,  ceaseless  anxiety,  the 
foul  air  of  close  and  crowded  rooms,  perpetual  travelling, 
loss  of  sleep,  lack  of  domestic  comforts,  unhealthy  food,  and 
trials  of  other  kinds  without  end,  so  exhausted  me,  that  I 
found  it  difficult  to  rise  from  my  chair,  or  to  steady  my- 
self on  my  feet.  To  walk  was  quite  a  task, — a  really  painful 
one.  I  had  a  difficulty  in  putting  one  foot  before  the  other. 
It  was  a  labor  to  drag  myself  along.  A  walk  of  two  or 
three  miles  quite  wearied  me.  And  when  I  got  to  myjour- 
ney's  end,  my  lungs  lacked  power  to  utter  words ;  my  brain 
lacked  energy  to  supply  thoughts;  and  lecturing  and  preach- 
ing became  a  weariness.  When  I  sat  down  to  write,  my 
pen  seemed  reluctant  to  touch  the  paper.  My  mind  shrank 
back  from  its  task.  In  my  ignorance  of  the  laws  of  life,  I 
chai'ged  myself  with  idleness,  and  tried  to  spur  myself  on 
to  renewed  activity.  The  attempt  was  vain.  One  after- 
noon I  ventured  to  lie  down  and  treat  myself  to  an  after- 
dinner  nap.  I  slept  three  hours.  I  had  no  engagement 
that  night,  and  feeling  still  unaccountably  sleepy,  I  slipped 


174  RELIGIOUS    LIBERTY   RUN   MAD. 

off  to  bed  about  eight  o'clock.  I  slept  till  nearly  nine  next 
morning.  I  slept  an  hour  or  two  more  after  dinner.  At 
night  I  slept  about  ten  hours  more.  Next  day  I  felt  as  if  ray 
strength  was  running  over.  I  could  do  anything.  My 
pen  seemed  to  point  to  the  paper  of  itself,  as  if  anxious  to 
be  writing.  Walking  was  a  pleasure.  I  could  preach  or 
lecture  without  effort.  Words,  thoughts,  and  feelings  were 
all  at  hand  to  do  my  bidding.  What  I  had  charged  on  my- 
self as  idleness,  was  strengthlessuess,  the  result  of  sheer  ex- 
haustion. 

I  had  suffered  so  much  from  the  intolerance  of  my  old 
colleagues,  that  I  now  resolved  to  be  subject  to  no  authori- 
ty whatever  but  God  and  my  own  conscience.  And  I  kept 
my  resolution.  I  would  neither  rule  nor  be  ruled.  The 
extreme  of  priestly  tyranny,  from  which  I  had  suffered  so 
grievously,  had  begotten  in  me  the  extreme  of  religious 
license.  I  have  seen  since,  that  a  man  may  have  too  much 
liberty,  as  well  as  too  little  ;  too  little  restraint  as  well  as 
too  much ;  and  that  a  church  without  authority  and  dis- 
cipline must  inevitably  lose  itself  in  confusion  and  ruin. 
We  are  none  of  us  fit  for  unlimited  liberty  :  we  all  need 
the  supervision,  and  counsels,  and  admonitions,  of  our  Chris- 
tian brethren. 

After  my  separation  from  the  Methodist  New  Connexion 
I  became  the  pastor  of  a  church  in  Newcastle,  which  had 
left  the  Connexion  on  account  of  my  expulsion.  The 
trustees  had  legal  and  rightful  possession  of  the  large  and 
nice  new  chapel  there,  and  they  and  the  other  officials  of  the 
church  were  both  dissatisfied  with  the  doings  of  Con- 
ference, and  desirous  to  secure  me  as  their  minister.  They 
were  aware  of  my  admiration  of  the  Quakers,  and  of  my 
leaning  towards  some  of  their  })eculiar  views  and  customs. 
They  were  also  accpiainted  with  my  way  of  jireaching,  for 
I  had  travelled  in  that  Circuit  some  years  before,  and  I  had 
])reached  for  theui  frequently  while  stationed  at  Gateshead. 
They  knew  my  character  too,  and  were  acquainted  with  all 
my  conflicts  with  the  ruling  party  in  the  Connexion  from 
which  I  had  been  expelled.  And  though  they  did  not 
think  exactly  as  I  thought  on  every  point,  they  saw  no- 
thing in  my  views  but  what  they  could  freely  tolerate. 
They  were  satisfied  that  I  was  conscientious  ;  and  they  con- 


BECOME   PASTOR   OF   CHUBCH   AT   NEWCASTLE.      175 

sidered  my  general  deportment  to  be  highly  exemplary. 
And  they  knew  I  was  a  hard-working  and  successful  min- 
ister. One  of  the  leading  members  was  a  printer,  and  had 
been  consulted  by  the  Annual  Committee  of  the  New  Con- 
nexion in  reference  to  my  communications  to  them  about  the 
publication  of  cheap  books  by  the  Book-room.  They  thought 
my  statements  were  extravagant :  he  told  them  they  were 
very  near  the  truth,  if  not  the  truth  itself.  This  gentle- 
man was  one  of  the  most  eager  now  to  arrange  for  my 
settlement  as  a  minister  in  Newcastle.  The  officers  and 
members  of  the  church  generally  were  disposed  to  consult 
my  feelings  and  meet  my  views.  They  did  not  require  me 
to  be  a  hired  or  salaried  minister.  They  knew  the  wants 
of  my  family,  and  they  would  provide  for  them.  They 
would  appoint  a  person  to  baptize  children.  They  were  not 
particular  about  theological  niceties.  They  had  read  my 
writings  ;  they  were  acquainted  with  the  controversies  that 
had  taken  place  between  me  and  my  opponents  ;  and  they 
were  satisfied  that  I  was  right  on  every  point  of  importance; 
and  that  was  enough.  And  they  liked  my  simple,  earnest, 
practical  style  of  preaching.  So  everything  was  com- 
fortably arranged. 

We  united  on  the  principle  laid  down  in  my  article  on 
"  Toleration,  Human  Creeds,'^  &c.  The  Bible  M'as  our  creed : 
the  Bible  was  our  law-book  ;  though  we  were  still,  on  the 
whole,  mcthodistical,  both  in  doctrine  and  discipline.  Num- 
bers of  other  churches  were  organized  on  the  same  princi- 
ple, in  various  parts  of  the  country  ;  and  several  young 
preachers  left  the  body  to  which  I  had  belonged,  or  were 
expelled  on  account  of  their  attachment  to  me,  and  became 
their  ministers.  And  tlie  churches  prospered.  Numbers 
of  people  joined  them,  both  from  the  world  and  from  other 
religious  communities. 

For  nearly  two  years  things  went  on  very  happily  at 
Newcastle,  and  the  church  was  very  prosperous.  I  labored 
to  the  utmost  extent  of  my  powers.  I  preached  twice  every 
Sunday  to  my  own  congregation,  and  once  to  another  con- 
gregation at  Gateshead,  or  in  the  country.  I  visited  the 
churches  also  in  every  part  of  the  land,  preaching  and  lec- 
turing continually. 

All  this  time  my  old  opponents  continued  their  abuse. 


176      GEORGE  BIRD  AND  FRESH  TROUBLE. 

Though  I  relinquished  no  Christian  doctrine,  and  added  to 
the  truth  no  dreams  or  speculations  of  my  own,  but  em- 
ployed myself  continually  in  preaching  the  great  practical 
principles  of  the  Gospel,  and  in  urging  my  hearers  to  love 
and  good  works,  they  assailed  me  with  the  bitterest  liatred. 
And  the  more  the  churches  with  which  I  was  connected 
prospered,  the  more  furiously  my  enemies  raged. 

And  when  people  left  other  denominations  to  unite  with 
my  friends,  ministers  and  members  of  those  denominations 
joined  my  opponents  in  their  evil  work.  They  preached 
abusive  sermons  and  published  abusive  pamphlets.  There 
was  eager,  angry  controversy  on  every  hand.  Hard  words 
were  used  on  both  sides.  The  feelings  of  both  parties  were 
heated  to  a  high  pitch.  And  as  is  usual  in  such  cases, 
both  parties,  under  the  influence  of  their  passions,  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  their  opponents  were  neither  sound  in 
doctrine,  nor  good  in  character. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  second  year  I  got  into  trouble  at 
Newcastle.  A  religious  reformer  of  the  name  of  George 
Bird  came  to  the  town.  His  father  was  a  clergyman  in 
the  Church  of  England,  and  he  himself  was  rector  of  Cum- 
berworth.  He  was  recommended  to  me  by  some  of  my 
friends  who  lived  near  Cumberworth,  and  as  he  was  wish- 
ful to  spend  some  time  in  Newcastle  and  the  neighborhood, 
I  took  him  into  my  house,  and  gave  him  a  home.  He  had 
published  a  book  on  the  Reform  of  the  Church  of  England, 
urging  tlie  abolition  of  a  number  of  abuses,  and  recommend- 
ing the  restoration  of  what  he  considered  true  Christian 
discipline.  His  idea  was,  that  Christians  should  meet  for 
religious  xoorship  apart  from  people  of  the  world, — that 
tliough  preachers  might  preach  to  mixed  audiences,  they 
should  reserve  their  singing  and  praying,  and  all  that  was 
strictly  worship,  for  assemblies  of  Christians  alone.  He 
reconi mended  that  the  members  of  the  church  should  meet 
first,  in  a  place  apart,  or  in  a  ])art  of  the  chapel  marked 
off  for  themselves,  and  go  through  their  devotions  all  alone, 
and  that  the  sermon,  addressed  both  to  believers  and  un- 
believers, should  be  quite  a  separate  service.  He  had  pas- 
sages of  Scripture,  and  church  tradition,  and  considerations 
of  fitness  and  propriety,  by  which  he  recommended  his  doc- 
trine, and  to  some  they  proved  convincing.     I  began  my- 


A  TEYING  POSITION.  177 

self,  after  thinking  the  matter  over  for  awhile,  to  have  a 
leaning  towards  his  views.  My  friends  could  so  far  tole- 
rate the  new  views,  that  they  allowed  Mr.  Bird  to  preach 
in  their  chapels,  letting  some  one  else  conduct  the  singing 
and  praying  parts  of  the  service.  But  when  they  found 
that  their  own  minister  began  to  look  with  favor  on  the 
new  plan,  they  became  alarmed.  They  could  tolerate  pe- 
culiarities in  others,  but  they  were  not  disposed  to  appear 
before  the  world  as  reformers  and  innovaters  themselves. 
Nor  would  they  allow  their  minister  to  go  any  farther  in 
the  way  of  reform  than  he  had  gone  before  they  had  accept- 
ed him  as  their  pastor.  They  had  reconciled  themselves  to 
the  changes  of  which  he  had  been  the  subject  previous  to 
his  special  connection  with  them,  but  they  would  have  no 
new  ones.  He  might  go  back  a  little  if  he  pleased,  but  not 
forwards. 

Both  my  friends  and  I  were  placed  in  a  trying  position. 
I  was  bent  on  compliance  with  whatever  seemed  to  be  the 
requirements  of  the  Gospel,  and  my  friends,  who  had  no 
misgivings  on  the  subject  of  public  worship,  were  resolved 
not  to  tolerate  a  change.  I  kept  the  usual  course  as  long 
as  I  could  do  so  without  self-condemnation,  but  at  length 
was  constrained  to  change.  One  Sunday  night  I  preached 
from  the  concluding  words  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount, — 
"  Therefore  whosoever  heareth  these  sayings  of  Mine,  and 
doeth  them,  I  will  liken  him  unto  a  wise  man,  which  built 
his  house  upon  a  rock :  and  the  rain  descended,  and  the 
floods  came,  and  the  winds  blew,  and  beat  upon  that  house ; 
and  it  fell  not :  for  it  was  founded  upon  a  rock.  And  every 
one  that  heareth  these  sayings  of  Mine,  and  doeth  them  not, 
shall  be  likened  unto  a  foolish  man,  which  built  his  house 
upon  the  sand :  and  the  rain  descended,  and  the  floods 
came,  and  the  winds  blew,  and  beat  upon  that  house ;  and 
it  fell :  and  great  was  the  fall  of  it."  I  reviewed  the  say- 
ings of  Christ  referred  to  in  the  text.  I  dwelt  at  some 
length  on  the  passage  about  praying  in  the  synagogues  and 
in  the  corners  of  the  streets.  The  congregation  w'as  very 
large,  and  the  sermon  was  unusually  impressive.  Some 
said  they  had  never  heard  me  preach  with  so  much  power. 
As  I  drew  towards  a  close,  I  referred  again  to  the  words  on 
public  prayer,  and  gave  what  appeared  to  me  to  be  their 
12 


178  DESERTIONS.      BLASPHEMOUS   ABUSE. 

meaning.  I  remarked,  that  I  felt  bound  to  comply  with 
what  I  believed  to  be  the  command  of  the  Saviour,  and  that 
I  must  therefore  decline  to  conclude  the  service  in  the  usual 
way,  by  a  public  prayer,  and  request  the  disciples  of  Christ 
to  retire  to  their  homes  and  secret  places  to  pray. 

The  result  was  exceedingly  painful.  Tlie  confusion  was 
dreadful.  Some,  who  had  never  thought  on  the  subject 
before,  and  who  had  probably  listened  to  me  that  evening 
without  comprehending  properly  my  meaning,  were  horri- 
fied. The  officers  of  the  church,  who  had  accepted  me  as 
their  minister  in  the  belief  that  I  should  never  try  them  by 
anything  new  in  my  views  or  proceedings,  were  grieved  be- 
yond measure.  One  of  them  said  to  me  at  a  meeting  the 
following  evening :  "  You  have  committed  a  crime,  com- 
jjared  with  which  the  sin  of  him  who  betrayed  his  Lord  for 
silver,  was  honor  and  piety  !"  This,  of  course,  Avas  madnesss, 
if  not  blasphemy.  But  it  helps  to  show  the  fearful  diffi- 
culties that  lie  in  the  way  of  the  man  who  feels  him- 
self called  to  be  a  religious  reformer.  And  it  tends  to  show 
the  tempest  of  excitement  in  which,  for  so  long  a  period,  it 
was  my  lot  to  live. 

The  result  of  this  last  step  in  my  reforming  career  was, 
that  almost  all  the  richer  and  more  influential  members 
of  the  church  deserted  me,  and  some  even  of  the  less  influen- 
tial followed  their  example.  This  however  did  not  change 
my  determination  to  do  wdiat  I  believed  to  be  the  will 
of  God.  Nor  did  it  dispose  me  to  hesitate  longer  before 
making  changes  when  they  seemed  to  be  called  for  by  the 
teachings  of  Christ.  On  the  contrary,  it  led  me  to  resolve, 
that  I  would  hold  myself  more  at  liberty  to  follow  the  re- 
velations of  truth  and  duty  than  ever.  I  blamed  my- 
self for  having  accepted  the  situation  of  a  regular  minister, 
blamed  myself  for  having  allowed  myself  to  be  influenced 
so  much  by  a  regard  to  the  judgments  and  feelings  of  others. 
I  felt  a  kind  of  j)leasure  at  length,  Avlien  I  found  the  lead- 
ing friends  wlio  had  held  me  so  much  in  check,  wove  gone. 
I  attributed  their  departure  to  my  fidelity  to  Christ,  and  to 
my  growing  conformity  to  His  likeness ;  and  I  resolved  to 
labor  more  than  ever  to  come  to  the  perfection  of  Christian 
manhood,  "  to  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulnc!-s 
of  Christ."     I  comforted  myself  with  the  thought  that  Jesus 


RECKLESS   INVESTIGATIONS.       TURN   PRINTER.       179 

had  been  deserted,  betrayed,  and  persecuted^'before  me  ;  and 
felt  happy  in  the  assurance,  that  if  I  "  suffered  with  Him, 
I  should  also  be  glorified  with  Him." 

I  now  resolved  to  speak  and  write  and  act  more  freely 
than  ever.  I  would  no  longer  keep  my  thoughts  to  myself 
till  I  was  thoroughly  convinced  of  their  truth,  but  submit 
them  to  the  consideration  of  my  friends  as  soon  as  they 
assumed  the  appearance  of  probability.  I  would  think 
aloud.  I  would  search  to  the  bottom  of  all  things,  and 
make  known  the  result  without  reserve.  I  would  favor  a 
free  and  fearless  discussion  of  every  subject.  And  I  would 
reduce  to  practice  everything  inculcated  by  Christ  and  His 
Apostles,  however  much  at  variance  it  might  be  with  the 
customs  of  the  Church.  I  would  rid  myself  of  prejudice. 
I  would  take  nothing  on  trust.  Old  things  should  now,  at 
last,  pass  away,  unless  they  were  found  to  form  part  of  the 
doctrine  of  Christ ;  and  all  things  should  become  new.  And 
what  I  purposed,  I  did,  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  I  ar- 
ranged for  meetings  of  the  church,  at  which  we  sang  and 
prayed,  and  endeavored  to  instruct  and  comfort  one  another, 
and  provoke  each  other  to  love  and  good  works.  When 
this  church  meeting  was  over,  I  ascended  the  pulpit,  and  ad- 
dressed the  public  congregation.  We  changed  the  manner 
of  conducting  class-meetings,  encouraging  the  members  to 
read  hymns,  or  portions  of  Scripture,  or  extracts  from  any 
instructive  book,  or  to  speak  to  each  other  for  comfort  or 
improvement.  I  would  be  no  longer  the  teacher  of  the 
church,  but  only  one  of  its  teachers. 

That  I  might  be  able  to  support  my  family  without  the 
aid  of  the  church,  and  so  feel  myself  thoroughly  free  and 
independent,  I  resolved  to  commence  business  as  a  printer. 
I  bought  a  press,  and  type,  and  all  the  other  requisites  of  a 
jnnnting-office,  and  set  to  work.  Elizabeth  Pease,  a  good 
kind  Quakeress  of  Darlington,  gave  me  thirty  pounds  to 
help  me  in  my  undei-taking,  and  others,  nearer  at  hand, 
assisted  me  according  to  their  ability.  I  engaged  a  man  to 
work  for  me,  and  teach  me  how  to  work  myself,  for  I  was 
quite  a  stranger  to  the  business.  I  soon  was  able  both  to 
set  up  type  and  work  the  press,  though  the  pressure 
of  other  work  prevented  me  from  excelling  in  either  of  those 
lines.     Before  long  I   had   two  men  at  work.     But   my 


180  A   BASE   FOREMAN.      A   GOOD   ONE. 

workmen  were  not  so  faithful  as  they  should  have  been, 
and  it  cost  rae  more  to  print  my  works  myself,  than  it  had 
done  to  get  them  printed  by  others.  I  got  a  foreman,  but 
he  used  my  office  to  carry  on  a  business  of  his  own,  instead 
of  doing  what  he  could  for  mine,  and  I  was  obliged  to  turn 
him  off,  and  pay  him  a  considerable  sum  to  keep  him 
from  troubling  me  with  a  law-suit.  A  short  time  after,  a 
very  unpromising-looking  young  man  came  and  asked  me 
for  a  place  in  my  printing  establishment.  He  Nvas  hardly 
a  young  man,  in  fact,  but  just  a  half-taught  random-looking 
kind  of  boy.  I  asked  what  he  could  do.  To  my  unspeak- 
able astonishment  he  told  me  that  the  place  he  wanted  was 
that  of  foreman.  I  smiled,  and  looked  on  the  poor  crea- 
ture as  a  simpleton.  But  though  he  seemed  a  little  discon- 
certed, he  was  not  to  be  abashed.  He  told  me,  that  if  I 
would  give  him  a  trial,  he  would  let  me  see  whether  he 
could  manage  the  office  or  not.  "  But  how  can  yon  man- 
age the  men  ?"  said  I.  Nothing  however  would  satisfy  the 
poor  boy  but  a  trial,  and  I,  under  some  kind  of  influence, 
agreed  to  give  him  one.  What  the  men  thought  when  he 
took  his  phice,  I  don't  know ;  but  they  seemed  to  act  on  the 
principle,  that  as  I  had  made  him  foreman,  they  must  obey 
his  orders ;  and  obey  him  they  did,  and  to  my  agreeable 
surprise,  everything  went  on  in  a  satisfactory  manner.  The 
youthful  foreman,  who  turned  out  to  be  a  sensible,  modest, 
hard-working,  honest  young  man,  did  well  from  the  first, 
and  improved  every  year,  and  remained  with  me,  giving 
satisfaction  both  to  me  and  to  my  men,  so  long  as  I  con- 
tinued in  business. 

I  had  many  fearful  trials  to  pass  throngli  after  I  oifend- 
ed  the  leading  members  of  my  congregation  by  giving  up 
singing  and  prayer  at  ])ubHc  meetings,  and  a  lioavy  loss  en- 
tailed on  me  by  the  dishonesty  of  one  of  those  leading  mem- 
bers was  not  the  least. 

Ever  since  the  time  when  I  first  became  an  autlior,  I  had 
acted  as  my  own  publisher  and  bookseller,  sending  out  par- 
cels to  my  friends,  keeping  accounts,  and  doing  tiie  whole 
work  of  a  Book-room.  When  I  engaged  to  be  minister 
of  the  church  in  Newcastle,  and  became  servant  of  the  newly- 
formed  churches  all  over  the  country,  Mr.  Black  well,  the 
printer  referred  to  on  page  175,  advised  me  to  put  the  book- 


BLACKWELL   AND   TOWNSENd's   DOINGS.  181 

selling  business  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Tbwnsend,  another 
leading  official  of  the  church.  "  You  have  work  enough/' 
said  he,  "and  too  much,  in  preaching,  lecturing,  writing, 
and  travelling,  and  Mr.  Townsend  can  do  the  book-selling 
better  than  you.  He  is  a  business  man ;  he  understands 
book-keeping ;  and  he  will  conduct  the  business  in  an  or- 
derly and  efficient  manner."  It  had  always  been  a  princi- 
ple with  me  never  to  go  into  debt,  and  I  said  to  Mr.  Black- 
well,  who  was  then  my  printer,  "  If  you  will  give  me  a 
guarantee  that  no  debt  shall  be  incui-red, — that  you  will 
never  print  anything  till  Mr.  Townsend  has  paid  you  for 
all  work  previously  printed,  I  will  agree  to  your  proposal." 
He  gave  me  his  word  that  he  would  do  exactly  as  I  request- 
ed. Mr.  Townsend  was  accordingly  made  wholesale  agent 
for  my  new  periodical,  and  for  all  my  other  publications, 
and  all  my  stock  of  books  was  placed  in  his  hands.  For 
fifteen  or  eighteen  months  I  gave  myself  no  concerii  about 
matters  of  business,  trusting  to  Mr.  Blackwell  to  keep  things 
right,  according  to  his  pledge. 

Mr.  Townsend  had  another  business  besides  my  book 
concern,  the  china  and  earthenware  business,  and  about 
eighteen  months  after  my  business  was  placed  in  his  hands, 
he  went  into  Scotland  to  dispose  of  a  quantity  of  his  sur- 
plus stock.  Pie  had  only  been  gone  a  few  days  before  word 
came  that  he  was  dead.  It  then  came  out  that  Mr.  Black- 
well  had  allowed  him  to  run  up  a  debt  of  nearly  seven  hun- 
dred pounds  for  printing.  It  also  came  out  that  Mr.  Towns- 
end  was  insolvent.  He  had  been  in  difficulties  for  years, 
and  he  had  used  the  money  he  had  received  for  my  books 
to  prevent  his  creditors  from  making  hini  a  bankrupt.  His 
journey  to  Scotland  was  his  last  shift,  and  failing  in  that, 
he  had  taken  opiates,  it  was  said,  to  such  an  extent,  as  to 
cause  death.  The  dreadful  revelations  that  were  laid  be- 
fore me  shocked  and  troubled  me  beyond  measure,  and  I 
knew  not  what  to  do.  Mr.  Blackwell,  through  whose  neg- 
lect or  unfaithfulness  the  debt  had  been  incurred,  exhorted 
me  not  to  be  alarmed,  assuring  me  that  he  should  never 
trouble  me  for  the  money.  So  I  set  to  work  to  gather  up 
the  fragments  of  my  property,  and  re-organize  the  business. 
I  got  in  what  money  I  could  from  the  agents,  and  gave  it, 
along  with  all  I  could  earn,  to  Mr.  Blackwell,  to  reduce 


182    SWEEP  AWAY  ALL.     PLUNGE  ME  DEEP  IN  DEBT. 

the  debt,  though  it  was  not  in  reality  a  debt  of  mine.  I 
gave  him  also  a  sum  belonging  to  my  wife,  which  slie  had 
just  received  as  a  legacy.  I  gave  him  all  that  came  into 
my  hands,  except  a  trifle  that  I  spent  in  procuring  food  for 
my  family;  and  in  eight  months  I  had  reduced  the  debt  to 
two  hundred  and  thirty  pounds. 

It  was  while  I  was  exerting  myself  to  pay  off  this  debt 
that  I  offended  the  leaders  of  my  congregation  by  giving  up 
public  worship.  The  person  who  said  that  in  doing  so,  "I 
had  been  guilty  of  a  crime,  compared  with  which  that  of  Ju- 
das in  selling  his  Master,  was  honor  and  piety,"  was  this 
same  Mr.  Blackwell.  When  I  began  to  print  for  myself, 
he  demanded  the  instant  payment  of  the  remaining  two 
hundred  and  thirty  pounds,  and  followed  the  demand  by 
legal  proceedings.  A  friend,  Mr.  John  Hindhaugh,  who 
had  heard  how  I  was  situated,  and  who  had  also  heard  that 
Mr.  Blackwell  had  said  that  he  would  soon  put  a  stop  to 
my  printing,  went  and  paid  the  amount  demanded,  and 
brought  me  the  receipt,  and  said,  that  if  ever  I  found  my- 
self able,  I  might  repay  him  the  amount,  but  that  I  must 
by  no  means  put  myself  to  any  inconvenience.  In  course 
of  time  I  repaid  my  friend,  and  was  once  more  out  of  debt. 

It  was  just  while  tried  by  this  sad  affiiir,  that  I  formed 
the  resolution  to  throw  off  all  restraints  of  prevailing  creeds 
and  customs,  and  enter  on  a  career  of  wholesale  and  un- 
trammelled investigation  and  discussion.  I  was  not  in  the 
fittest  state  of  mind  to  do  justice  to  the  forms  of  Christi- 
anity in  favor  with  the  churches.  On  the  contrary,  the 
influences  to  which  I  had  been  long  subjected,  and  the  pe- 
culiar state  of  excitement  in  which  I  was  still  living,  could 
hardly  fail  to  carry  me  into  extremes.  No  matter,  I  set  to 
work.  I  printed  thousands  upon  thousands  of  hand-bills, 
announcing  a  three  months'  convention  and  free  discussion 
in  my  cha[)cl,  and  had  them  posted  and  distributed  all  round 
the  country.  Free  admission  and  freedom  of  speech  were 
promised  to  all  comers.  Among  the  subjects  announced 
for  discussion  were,  the  Trinity,  the  Godhead  of  Christ, 
the  Atonement,  Natural  Depravity,  Hereditary  Guilt, 
Eternal  Torments,  Everlasting  Destruction,  Justification  by 
Faith  alone,  the  Nature  of  Saving  Faith,  AVhat  is  a  Chris- 
tian ?  Trust  in  the  Merits  of  Christ,  Instantaneous  Kegen- 


PUBLIC   DISCUSSIONS.  183 

eratlon,  Christian  Perfection,  the  direct^'Witness  of  tlie 
Spirit,  the  Sabbath  Question,  Non-resistance,  Peace,  War, 
and  Human  Governments,  Law-Suits,  the  Credit  System, 
Toleration  and  Human  Creeds,  the  Church,  the  Hired 
Ministry,  Public  Prayer,  Public  Worship  generally.  Preach- 
ing, Sunday  Schools,  Freedom  of  Thought,  Freedom  of  Con- 
science, Class-Meetings,  and  the  Duty  of  the  Church  to 
its  Poor  Members. 

The  chapel-  was  kept  open  every  day,  and  every  day, 
when  not  called  out  of  town,  I  delivered  one  or  two  lectures 
on  one  of  those  subjects,  stating  ray  own  views  on  the  point, 
and  my  reasons  for  holding  them,  and  then  calling  on  any 
one  that  might  differ  from  me,  to  state  his  views  in  reply. 
The  chapel  was  generally  crowded,  and  the  discussions  were 
often   very  animated.     Persons    of  various   denominations 
took  part  in  them,  and  people  came  from  almost  every  part 
of  the  country  to  witness  the  proceedings.     My  principal 
opponent,  for  a  portion  of  the  time,  was  George  Bird,  the 
rector  of   Cumberworth,  who  had  inoculated  me  with  his 
views  on  public  worship.     He  was  very  orthodox  on  many 
points,  while  I,  on  some  points,  was  leaning  towards  Lati- 
tudinarianism.     We   had,  at  times,  very  exciting  contests. 
Mr.  Bird  was  exceedingly  anxious  to  gain  a  victory,  both 
for  himself  and  for  his  views.     And  he  was  not  particular 
as  to  the  means  he  employed  to  accomplish  his  object.     He 
was  very  unfair.     He  could  not,  or  he  would   not,  refrain 
from   personal  abuse,  nor  from    misrepresentations  of  my 
views  and  statements.     I  was  severe  enough  in  my  criti- 
cisms, but  I  never  was  knowingly,  and  I  do  not  think  I  was 
often  even  unintentionally,  unjust  to  an  opponent.     I  never 
charged  people  with  saying  what  they  did  not  say,  and  I 
never  forced  a  meaning  on  their  words  which  they  were  not 
intended  to  express.     And  if  at  any  time  an    ojjponent 
charged  me  with  misquoting  his  words,  or  Avith  misrepre- 
senting his  meaning,  I  always  accepted  his  corrections  or 
explanations.     Nor  did  I  indulge  in  personal  abuse.     Nor 
did  I  lose  my  temper.     I  did  my  utmost  to  be  just  to  all, 
and  when  I   could  not  exhibit  niuch  esteem  or  love  for  an 
opponent,  I  tried  to  be  respectful. 

The  records  of  those  long-continued  and  strange  debates 
are,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  lost.     But  while  they  were  proceed- 


184  CHANGED  THE  NAME  METHODIST  FOR  CHEISTIAN. 

ing  I  drifted  farther  away,  on  some  points,  from  the  views 
maintained  by  orthodox  communities.  I  am  not  aware  how- 
ever that  I  went  much  further  than  Wesley  went  during  the 
latter  years  of  his  life.  I  found,  not  only  in  Scripture,  but 
in  the  sermons  of  Wesley,  and  in  the  writings  of  Baxter, 
Avho  was  a  favorite  with  Wesley,  what  seemed  to  me  fully 
to  justify  all  that  I  had  taught  on  the  great  doctrines 
of  Christianity  up  to  this  period. 

I  gave  up  the  Christian  Investigator  at  the  end  of  two 
years,  and  as  two  of  my  friends  were  anxious  to  publish  a 
periodical,  I  refrained  for  a  time  from  commencing  another, 
to  give  them  a  better  chance  of  success.  I  also  helped  them 
by  writing  for  them,  at  their  request,  a  number  of  articles 
for  the  earlier  numbers  of  their  work.  Their  attempt  how- 
ever proved  a  failure.  The  work  contained  a  heap  of  An- 
tinomian  and  Millenarian  nonsense,  and  my  readers  had  no 
taste  for  such  stuff;  and  the  work  was  given  up,  and  the 
Editors  shortly  after  left  me  and  my  friends,  and  joined  the 
Plymouth  Brethren,  repaying  me  for  my  kindness  by 
treachery  and  abuse.  One  of  them  published  a  tract  when 
he  took  himself  away,  exhorting  my  friends  to  be  on  their 
guard  lest  they  should  be  led  by  me  into  anti-christian  er- 
ror. Their  conduct  towards  me  altogether,  as  I  thought, 
was  unjust  and  dishonorable.,  and  though  they  are  now  both 
dead,  I  can  think  of  no  good  excuse  for  the  way  in  which 
they  acted.     But  God  is  judge. 

I  now  laid  aside  the  name  of  Ildhodist  and  adopted  that 
of  Christianj  and  I  commenced  a  new  periodical,  bearing 
the  same  title.  I  made  it,  as  I  liad  made  my  other  periodi- 
cals, the  organ  of  my  own  mind,  the  vehicle  of  my  own 
thoughts  on  every  subject  of  importance  that  engaged  my 
attention.  My  writing  was  simply  free  and  friendly  talk  with 
my  readers  on  matters  in  which  we  were  all  greatly 
interested.  And  the  work  contains  the  history  of  the 
changes  which  took  place  in  my  views  during  the  period 
of  its  publication. 

While  publishing  The  Cliristian,  I  published  a  multitude 
of  pamphlets.  In  answer  to  a  pamphlet  by  the  Rev.  AV. 
Cooke,  in  which  I  was  roughly  and  unjustly  liandlcd,  I 
published  seven  letters  entitled  Truth  and  Reform  against 
the  Worldy  signing  myself  A  Christian.     lu  these  letters  I 


TRUTH   AND   BEFOKIkl   AGAINST    THE    WORLD.        185 

spoke  with  the  greatest  freedom  both  of  myself  and  of  my 
opponents,  as  well  as  on  a  great  variety  of  other  subjects. 
I  exposed  a  number  of  what  seemed  extravagant  or  un- 
guarded statements  made  by  my  assailant  with  regard  to  the 
Scriptures.  I  also  published  a  work  on  The  Hii-ed  Minis- 
try. My  tracts  on  Saving  Faith  and  The  Atonement  came 
out  about  the  same  time.  My  aim  in  these  latter  publica- 
tions was  to  free  the  subject  of  Saving  Faith  and  the 
doctrine  of  the  Atonement  from  needless  mystery,  by 
separating  from  the  teachings  of  Christ  and  the  Apostles 
on  those  points,  the  bewildering  and  mischievous  additions 
of  ignorant  theologians.  I  did  not  deny  the  doctrine  of  sal- 
vation by  faith  in  Christ,  but  only  showed  that  the  faith 
in  Christ  spoken  of  in  the  New  Testament  was  simply  a 
belief  in  Him  as  the  Messiah,  leading  us  to  receive  and 
obey  His  teachings,  and  to  trust  in  Him  for  salvation. 
Nor  did  I  deny  the  doctrine  of  redemption  or  atone- 
ment ;  but  simply  endeavored  to  put  what  the  New  Testa- 
ment said  on  these  subjects  in  its  true  light.  In  most 
of  those  works,  if  not  in  all  of  them,  there  are  evidences 
of  undue  excitement,  and  in  inany  of  them  there  are  passages 
which,  in  one's  calmer  and  more  candid  mood,  one  is 
obliged  to  condemn. 

I  extended  my  investigations  to  all  religious  subjects, 
endeavoring  to  bring  my  views  and  proceedings  on  every 
point  into  perfect  harmony  with  the  teachings  of  Christ  and 
His  Apostles.  I  also  did  ray  best,  in  connection  with  my 
friends,  to  carry  into  practice  in  our  church  at  Newcastle 
what  we  regarded  as  the  New  Testament  principles  of  dis- 
cipline and  church  government.  Tlie  following  were  among 
our  regulations  : — We  would  have  no  fixed  payments.  All 
must  be  given  freely.  There  must  be  no  charge  for  admis- 
sion to  the  church  feasts.  We  would  support  our  poor 
members.  We  would  deal  with  offenders  according  to  the 
instructions  of  Christ :  first,  tell  them  of  their  faults  be- 
tween them  and  us  alone,  &c.,  &g. 

We  encountered  many  difficulties  in  our  attempts  to 
carry  out  some  of  our  principles.  Some,  that  were  able  to 
contribute,  were  too  selfish  to  do  so,  and  left  the  expenses 
of  the  church  to  be  met  by  the  generous  few.  They  would  eat 
like  gluttons  at  the  church  feasts,  but  give  notliing  towards 


186      CHURCH   EEFOEM   A    HARD    ROAD   TO   TRAVEL." 

paying  for  the  provisions.  Some  seemed  to  enter  the  church 
to  get  supported  in  idleness  out  of  its  funds.  This  seemed 
to  be  the  case  especially  with  a  blind  beggar.  He  spared 
no  pains  in  making  known  his  connection  with  the  church, 
and  its  generosity  in  supporting  him,  to  the  public.  This 
brought  in  a  number  of  others  who  were  wishful  to  be  sup- 
ported. But  many  of  these  people,  after  joining  the  church, 
refused  to  work.  It  was  plain  that  we  must  either  give  up 
the  attempt  to  carry  out  our  generous  principles,  or  else 
adopt  some  method  of  testing  people  before  admitting  them 
as  members,  and  some  wise  system  of  discipline  and  gov- 
ernment with  regard  to  those  already  admitted.  But  we 
had  said  so  much  about  unlimited  liberty,  that  we  could  do 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other  without  breaking  up  the  church 
and  building  it  up  anew ;  and  it  seemed  too  late  to  do  that. 
So  we  dragged  along  as  well  as  we  could.  Some  lost  pa- 
tience, and  went  to  other  churches.  Some  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  Christianity  as  laid  down  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament was  impracticable,  and  so  became  skeptical.  Some 
kept  aloof  from  all  the  churches,  but  still  retained  their 
fiith  in  Christianity,  and  their  attachment  to  the  principles 
to  which  Ave  had  given  prominence. 

At  one  period  I  lectured  frequently  on  Peace.  The 
Quakers  aided  me  in  obtaining  rooms  for  my  lectures,  and 
supplied  me  with  money  to  pay  my  travelling  expenses  ; 
and  the  Backhouses  and  Peases  of  Darlington,  and  the 
Richardsons  and  others  of  Newcastle,  contributed  to  the 
support  of  my  family.  I  met  with  some  of  the  best  and 
most  agreeable  people  I  ever  knew,  among  the  Quakers. 
Many  of  them  were  remarkably  liberal  and  enlightened  in 
their  views,  not  only  on  religion,  but  on  many  other  subjects. 
I  was  astonished  at  the  extent  of  their  reading,  and  at  the 
amount  of  knowledge  they  possessed.  And  they  had  a 
wonderful  amount  of  charity  towards  other  religious  de- 
nominations. Tiiey  believed  the  churches  were  doing  much 
good,  and  rejoiced  in  their  usefulness,  though  they  could 
not  always  join  them  in  their  labors.  I  also  found  that  in 
their  dealings  with  each  other,  they  were  exceedingly  con- 
scientious. One  Friend  had  recommended  another,  a  lady, 
to  invest  her  money  in  some  mining  speculation,  which  he 
believed  was  likely  to  prove  profitable.     She  did  so,  and 


QUAKER     HONESTY.      TIMELY   RELIEF.  187 

lost  her  money,  or  received  no  interest  from  it.  The  Friend 
who  had  counselled  the  investment,  took  the  shares,  and 
returned  the  lady  her  money.  This,  I  believe,  was  not  a 
thing  by  itself,  but  a  sample  of  Quaker  dealings  with  each 
other.  I  learned  some  useful  lessons  from  the  Quakers, 
and  I  received  from  them  many  favors.  I  retain  many 
pleasant  recollections  of  my  intercourse  with  them,  and 
expect  to  think  of  them  with  pleasure  to  my  dying  day. 

After  I  ceased  to  receive  a  salary  for  preaching,  I  and 
my  family  were  often  in  straits,  and  at  times  we  seemed  on 
the  very  verge  of  starvation.  My  printing  business  did 
not  pay  its  own  expenses  at  first,  and  for  several  years 
after  it  began  to  yield  a  profit,  the  profit  was  required  for 
new  presses,  new  type,  or  had  to  lie  dead  in  the  shape  of  in- 
creased stock  of  publications.  And  I  had  no  income  from 
property.  Yet  in  every  case  when  we  seemed  to  be 
reduced  to  extremities,  supplies  came  from  some  quarter  or 
other.  Sometimes  I  knew  the  hand  by  which  assistance 
was  sent,  but  at  other  times  my  benefactors  remained 
unknown.  There  was  one  good  Christian,  John  Donaldson, 
who  was  always  ready  with  his  help.  He  not  only  aided 
me  by  many  gifts,  but  busied  himself  to  induce  his  friends 
to  send  me  aid.  He  gave  the  first  subscription  towards  a 
steam  press ;  and  when  the  press  was  bought,  he  sent  a  sum 
to  purchase  the  first  load  of  coals  to  get  up  the  steam,  to 
put  the  press  in  motion. 

On  one  occasion,  while  I  was  lecturing  in  the  South, 
nearly  two  hundred  miles  away  from  home,  I  failed  to 
receive  the  supplies  I  expected  from  the  agents  for  my  pub- 
lications, and  my  family  seemed  likely  to  be  out  of  provisions 
before  I  could  send  them  help.  My  wife  and  children  had 
begun  to  feel  uneasy  and  afraid.  That  day  a  man  came  up 
'to  the  door  with  a  cart-load  of  provisions.  "  Does  Mr. 
Barker  live  here  ? "  said  the  man  to  my  eldest  son,  who 
had  answered  the  knock  at  the  door.  "  Yes,"  answered 
my  son.  "I  have  brought  you  some  things,"  said  the  man, 
"  some  flour,  and  potatoes,  and  things."  "  They  are  not 
for  us,"  said  the  poor  little  fellow,  "  my  father  is  away." 
"But this  is  Mr.  Barker's,  is  it  not?"  said  the  man.  "Yes," 
said  my  son.  "  Then  it  is  all  right,"  said  the  man,  "  I  was 
told  to  leave  them  here,"  and  he  began  to  unload.     Both 


188      IN   ANSWER   TO   PRAYER.      SHORT   OF     FAITH. 

children  and  mother  were  afraid  there  was  some  mistake, 
but  the  man  went  on  unloading,  and  stocked  tlie  house  with 
food  for  weeks  to  come. 

A  day  or  two  before,  my  wife  and  children  had  been 
talking  to  each  other,  and  expressing  their  apprehensions, 
as  I  had  not  been  able  to  send  them  any  money,  tiiat  they 
would  soon  be  without  anything  to  eat.  One  of  the  chil- 
dren said, '  Let  us  pray,  mother :  perhaps  God  will  send  us 
something.'  They  all  knelt  down,  and  both  mother  and 
children  prayed  :  and  when  they  saw  the  abundant  supplies 
with  which  the  cart  had  stocked  the  house,  they  believed 
that  God  had  sent  them  in  answer  to  their  prayers. 

I  refused  to  buy  paper,  or  type,  or  anything,  on  credit,  and 
I  was  often  at  a  loss,  when  my  stock  of  paper  was  almost 
out,  to  know  where  the  money  was  to  come  from  to  get  a 
fresh  supply.  And  I  had  not  so  much  faith  as  G.  Miiller 
of  Bristol ;  at  any  rate,  my  faith  did  not  give  me  the  same 
pleasant  assurances  that  I  should  receive  what  I  desired, 
that  Miiller's  faith  gave  him.  I  am  inclined  however  to 
think  that  I  had  not  so  much  trust  in  Providence,  as  I 
ought  to  have  had.  I  certainly  had  not  so  much  as  I  have 
now.  But  then,  I  am  better  off  now  than  I  was  then. 
But  I  was  lacking,  to  some  extent,  in  Christian  trust  in  God, 
as  well  as  in  resignation  to  His  will,  and  hence  my  uneasi- 
ness. Many  a  time  Avhcn  I  laid  myself  down  on  my  bed 
at  night,  instead  of  going  to  sleep,  I  spent  long  liours  in 
thought  about  my  business,  looking  in  every  direction  for 
a  prospect  of  supplies  to  enable  me  to  pay  the  wages  of  my 
men,  and  purchase  paper.  Tlie  first  thing  was  to  tliink  of  all 
the  men  that  owed  me  money, — to  consider  wliich  of  all 
the  number  would  be  likely  to  send  me  remittances  in  time, 
and  to  reckon  up  the  sums,  to  see  if  they  would  enable  me 
to  meet  the  demands  upon  me.  The  next  thing  was  to  do 
the  same  thing  over  again ;  and  the  next,  to  do  it  over 
again  a  third  time.  All  this  was  accompanied  with  long 
and  deeji-drawn  sighs,  which  were  listened  to  by  a  fond 
and  wakeful  bedfellow,  who  silently  sympathized  with  me 
in  all  my  trials,  and  who  was  as  restless  and  anxious  as  my- 
self. Sometimes  I  moaned,  and  sometimes  I  prayed  ;  and 
when  I  was  wearied  out  with  my  fruitless  labors,  I  fell 
asleep.     It  would  have  been  better,  if  I  could  have  done  it, 


FEESH   RELIEF.      MY   WIFE   DANGEROUSLY  ILL.    189 

to  have  "  given  to  the  winds  my  fears,"  anS  lost  myself  in 
peaceful  and  refreshing  slumbers;  for  generally,  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  the  needful  supplies  arrived.  They  seldom 
came  from  tiic  parties  from  whom  I  expected  them,  but  they 
came  notwithstanding. 

One  day,  towards  the  close  of  the  year,  my  stock  of  paper 
was  very  low,  and  I  had  nothing  with  which  to  purchase 
a  fresh  supply.  Next  morning  a  letter  came,  enclosing 
thirty-five  [)ounds,  a  Christmas  gift  from  friends  in  Ireland. 
On  one  occasion,  when  I  was  unwell,  a  gentleman  whom 
I  had  never  seen,  and  whom  I  have  not  seen  yet  in  fact, 
sent  me  forty  pounds,  to  enable  me  to  spend  a  month  at 
some  hydropatliic  establishment.  He  had  read  a  number 
of  my  publications,  and  had  been  pleased  with  them,  and 
havmg  learned  in  some  way  that  I  was  not  well,  had  sent 
this  proof  of  his  kind  regard. 

There  was  one  man  in  Newcastle,  a  wealthy  man,  who  said 
to  me,  "  Come  to  me  Avhenever  you  are  in  difficulty,  and 
you  shall  Iiave  whatever  you  need."  I  was  often  in  diffi- 
culties, but  hesitated  to  ask  his  help.  One  day,  however, 
after  having  waited  for  supplies  from  other  quarters  as  long 
as  I  durst,  I  went  to  him,  and  stated  my  case.  He  kept 
me  waiting  an  hour  or  more,  and  then  said,  "  No."  I 
turned  away  ashamed  and  sad.  A  friend  whom  I  encoun- 
tered on  my  way  home,  said,  "  What  is  the  matter  with 
you?  Are  you  ill?  You  look  bad."  I  was  obliged  to 
tell  him  my  story.  "Is  that  all?"  said  he.  "We  can 
soon  put  that  right.".  And  he  gave  me,  unasked,  as  much 
as  I  needed. 

While  we  were  struggling  with  our  other  difficulties,  my 
wife  was  taken  ill.  The  house  in  which  we  lived  was 
badly  drained,  or  rather,  the  drains  being  out  of  order,  the 
offensive  materials  from  other  houses  lodged  under  the  floor 
of  our  cellar  kitchen,  and  sent  forth,  through  the  floor, 
deadly  effluvia.  In  this  cellar  kitchen  we  were  obliged  to 
live.  I  was  so  much  from  home,  and  when  at  home  was 
so  much  in  the  open  air,  travelling  to  mv  appointments, 
and  even  when  in  the  house,  I  spent  so  much  of  my  time  in 
an  upper  room  writing,  that  I  took  no  harm.  It  was  other- 
wise with  my  poor  wife.  She  had  to  be  in  this  room  almost  all 
day  long,  and  often  till  late  at  night.     The  result  was  a 


190  NARROW   ESCAPE    FROM    DEATH. 

deadly  attack  of  fever.  She  had  felt  unwell  for  some  days, 
but  had  still  gone  on  with  her  work,  and  sought  no  medical 
advice  or  help.  At  length,  as  she  was  going  to  bed  one 
night,  she  fainted  on  the  stairs.  The  stairs  were  very  steep, 
and  the  point  at  which  she  lost  her  consciousness  was  a  most 
dangerous  one,  and  it  seemed  a  miracle  that  she  had  not 
fallen  back  to  the  bottom  and  been  killed.  But  somehow 
she  fell  only  a  step  or  two.  My  eldest  son  heard  there  M'as 
something  the  matter,  and  ran  to  see  what  it  M'as.  There 
he  found  his  poor,  darling  mother  apparently  dead,  in  the 
middle  of  the  steep  and  winding  staircase.  How  he  did 
it,  I  do  not  know,  nor  does  he,  but  though  he  was  only  a 
child  of  about  thirteen  years  of  age,  he  took  his  mother,  and 
by  some  mysterious  means,  carried  her  up  the  remainder 
of  the  stairs,  placed  her  on  her  bed,  and  then  stood  sorrow- 
ing and  trembling  till  she  came  to  herself.  She  was  ill 
thirteen  weeks.  For  two  or  three  weeks  she  seemed  on  the 
point  of  death.  On  my  return,  late  one  night,  from  one 
of  my  engagements,  ten  miles  away  in  the  country,  I  found 
her  strangely  changed  for  the  Avorse.  She  looked  at  me 
with  a  loolv  I  can  never  forget.  She  thougiit  she  was  dy- 
ing. I  thought  so  too.  Her  eye  said.  Death  ;  her  whole 
expression  said.  Death.  I  burst  into  tears,  and  gave  what  I 
thought  was  my  last  fond  embrace.  She  had  power  to  ut- 
ter just  one  sentence:  it  was  an  expression  of  tenderness 
and  kindness,  more  kind  and  tender  than  I  deserved;  and 
then  fell  back  on  her  pillow,  as  if  giving  up  the  ghost.  But 
she  lived  through  the  night,  and  she  lived  through  the  fol- 
lowing day,  helpless  and  speechless,  yet  still  breathing. 
She  recovered,  and  remained  with  us  to  comfort  and  guide 
and  bless  us  for  nearly  thirty  years,  and  then,  alas,  all  too 
soon  ap]iarently,  for  those  Avho  loved  and  all  but  adored  her, 
she  passed  in  peace  to  the  worlds  of  light. 

I  believed  myself  all  this  time  engaged  in  the  service 
of  my  Maker,  and  I  regarded  the  arrival  of  seasonable  help 
from  time  to  time,  as  a  proof  that  I  was  an  object  of  His 
tender  care,  and  that  my  labors  had  His  smile  and  blessing. 
"Why  did  I  not  trust  Him  more  fully  ? 

By  the  time  I  had  carried  on  my  printing  business  for 
four  or  five  years,  the  outlay  for  type,  and  presses,  and  other 
kinds  of  printing  apparatus,  became  much  less,  while  my 


MONEY   PLENTY.      CONTACT  WITH   UNITARIANS.    191 

income  from  the  sale  of  books  became  much  greater,  and 
I  found  myself  able,  at  length,  to  purchase  whatever  I 
needed  as  soon  as  I  wanted  it.  By-and-bye  I  had  money 
always  on  hand.  The  relief  I  felt,  when  I  found  myself 
fairly  above  want  and  difficulty,  was  delightful  beyond 
measure. 


CHAPTER  XHL 

CONTACT   WITH   UNITARIANS,  AND   DOWNWARD   TEN- 
DENCY TO   DEISM. 

I  had  now  for  some  time  been  gradually  approaching  the 
views  of  the  more  moderate  class  of  Unitarians.  Some 
of  my  friends,  when  they  saw  this,  became  alarmed,  and  re- 
turned to  their  old  associates  in  the  orthodox  communities ; 
others  got  out  of  patience  with  me  for  moving  so  slowly, 
and  ran  headlong  into  unbelief ;  while  the  great  majority 
still  chose  to  follow  my  guidance. 

Two  of  my  Quaker  friends,  who  had  aided  me  in  my 
peace  lectures,  waited  upon  me  and  said,  that  it  Avould  be 
necessary  for  me,  if  I  meant  to  continue  to  lecture  in  con- 
nection with  the  Peace  Society,  not  to  allow  myself  to  be 
known  as  holding  heterodox  views.  I  answered  that  I  would 
not  submit  to  one  hair's  breadth  of  restraint,  nor  to  a 
feather's  weight  of  pressure ;  and  the  consequence  was,  the 
withdrawal  of  all  assistance  and  countenance  from  the 
orthodox  portion  of  the  Quakers  in  every  part  of  the 
country. 

The  Unitarians  had  long  been  observing  our  movements, 
and  when  they  found  us  coming  so  near  to  their  views,  they 
began  to  attend  our  meetings,  and  to  court  our  company. 
At  first  we  were  very  uneasy  at  their  advances,  and  shrank 
from  them  with  real  horror ;  but  our  dislike  and  dread 
of  them  gradually  gave  way.  They  were- very  kind.  They 
lent  us  books,  and  assisted  us  with  the  loan  of  schools  and 
chapels.  They  showed  themselves  gracious  in  many  ways. 
And  after  the  cruelty  we  had  experienced  from  other  parties, 
their  kindness  and  sympathy  proved  very  agreeable.  I 
read  their  works  with  great  eagerness,  and  was  often  de- 


192  UNITAEIAN  BOOKS.    MANY  KINDS  OF  UNITARIANS. 

lighted  to  find  in  them  so  many  sentiments  so  like  my  own. 
I  had  read  some  of  Channing's  Avorks  before,  and  now  I 
read  them  all,  and  many  of  them  with  the  greatest  delight. 
I  read  the  work  of  Worcester  on  the  Atonement,  of  Nor- 
ton on  the  Trinity,  and  of  Ware  on  a  variety  of  subjects. 
I  also  read  several  of  the  w^orks  of  Carpenter,  Belsham, 
Priestley,  and  Martineau.  Some  of  those  works  I  published. 
I  also  published  a  work  by  W.  Penn,  "  The  Sandy  Founda- 
tion Shaken,"  which  some  thought  Unitarian.  I  came  at 
length  to  be  regarded  by  the  Unitarians  as  one  of  their  party. 
They  invited  me  to  preach  in  their  chapels,  and  aided  me  in  the 
circulation  of  some  of  my  publications.  I  preached  for  them 
in  various  parts  of  the  country.  I  was  invited  to  visit  the 
Unitarians  in  London,  and  I  preached  in  most  of  their  cha- 
pels there,  and  was  welcomed  by  many  of  the  ministers  and 
leading  laymen  of  the  Metropolis  at  a  public  meeting.  When 
my  friends  raised  a  fund  to  purchase  me  a  steam  printing 
press,  many  Unitarians  gave  liberal  subscriptions.  Several 
of  their  leading  men  attended  the  meeting  at  which  the  press 
was  presented,  and  took  a  leading  part  in  the  proceedings. 

I  had  not  mingled  long  with  the  Unitarians  before  I 
found  that  they  diifered  from  one  another  very  much  in 
their  views.  Some  few  were  Arian,  some  were  Socinian, 
and  some  quite  Latitudinarian.  Some  admired  Priestley, 
some  Carpenter,  some  Chauning,  and  some  Parker.  Some 
looked  on  Channing  as  an  old  fogy,  and  said  there  was  not 
an  advanced  or  progressive  idea  in  his  writings ;  while 
others  thought  that  everything  beyond  Channing  bordered 
on  the  regions  of  darkness  and  death.  Some  looked  on  the 
Scriptures  as  of  divine  authority,  and  declared  their  readi- 
ness to  believe  whatever  they  could  be  proved  to  teach : 
others  regarded  the  Scriptures  as  of  no  authority  whatever, 
and  dc(;lared  their  determination  to  accept  no  views  but 
such  as  could  be  proved  to  be  true  independent  of  the  Bible. 
Some  believed  Jesus  to  be  a  supernatural  person,  commis- 
sioned by  God  to  give  a  supernatural  revelation  of  truth 
and  duty,  and  empowered  to  prove  the  divinity  of  His  mis- 
sion and  doctrine  by  supernatural  works.  Others  looked  on 
Christ  as  the  natural  result  of  the  moral  development  of  our 
race,  like  Bacon,  Shakespeare,  or  Baxter.  They  looked 
on  miracles  as  impossible,  and  regarded  all  the  Bible  ac- 


VISIT  TO  LONDON.    DR.  BO  WRING,    DR.  BATEMAN,     193 

counts  of  supernatural  events  as  flibles.  They  were  Deists. 
One  I  found  who  declared  his  disbelief  in  a  future  life. 
There  was  a  gradual  incline  from  the  almost^Christian  doc- 
trine of  Carpenter  and  Channing,  down  to  the  principles 
of  Deism  and  Atheism. 

While  in  London  I  became  acquainted  with  Dr.  Bow- 
ring,  afterwards  Sir  John  Bowring.  He  was  one  of  my 
hearers  at  Stamford  Street  Chapel,  and  com])limented  me, 
after  the  sermon,  by  calling  me  the  modern  John  Bunyan. 
He  had  been  pleased  with  the  simplicity  of  my  style,  and 
the  familiar  and  striking  character  of  my  illustrations.  He 
invited  me  to  his  house,  showed  me  a  multitude  of  curiosi- 
ties, which  he  had  collected  in  his  travels  round  the  world, 
made  me  a  present  of  part  of  a  skull  which  he  had  taken  from 
an  Egyptian  Pyramid — the  skull  of  a  prince,  who,  he  said, 
had  lived  in  the  days  of  Joseph, — he  also  made  me  a  j)resent 
of  his  works,  including  five  volumes  of  translations  from 
the  Poets  of  Russia,  Hungary,  and  other  countries,  and 
some  works  connected  with  his  own  eventful  history.  Dr. 
Bowring  was  a  member  of  Parliament,  and  he  took  me  to 
the  House  of  Commons,  introduced  me  to  a  number  of  tlie 
members,  got  me  into  the  House  of  Lords,  and  did  all  in 
his  power  to  make  my  stay  in  London  as  pleasant  as  possi- 
ble. 

Another  London  gentleman  who  was  very  kind  was  Dr. 
Bateman,  the  Queen's  Assistant  Solicitor  of  Excise.  He 
took  me  to  several  assemblies,  at  one  of  which,  besides  a 
number  of  the  great  ones  of  the  land,  I  Avas  introduced  to 
a  New  Zealand  chief,  a  strong-built,  broad-set,  large-head- 
ed, lion-looking  man.  It  was  hinted  that  he  knew  the 
taste  of  human  flesh,  and  was  probably  thinking  at  that 
moment,  what  rich  contributions  some  of  the  youthful  and 
well-fed  parties  who  were  paying  their  respects  to  him, 
would  make  to  a  New  Zealand  feast.  At  one  of  those  as- 
semblies there  was  a  tremendous  crowd,  and  I  lost  my  hat, 
and  some  body  else  must  have  lost  his,  for  I  got  a  magnifi- 
cent and  strange-shaped  head-cover,  that  might  have  dis- 
tinguished, if  not  adorned,  the  greatest  magnate  of  the  land. 

Dr.  Bateman  and  Dr.  Bowring  showed  me  kindness  in 
other  ways,  obtaining  for  me  and   my  friends  large  grants 
of  books,  contributing  to  the  fund  for  the  purchase  of  a 
13 


194  UNITARIAN    WELCOME.      GREAT    MEETING. 

steam  press  to  be  presented  to  me,  and  inducing  a  number 
of  their  friends  to  contribute.  1  was  also  introduced  to  Dr. 
Hutton,  minister  of  Carter  Lane  Chapel,  and  preached  and 
lectured  in  his  pulpit.  And  I  visited  the  meeting-place  of  the 
Free-thinking  Christians,  was  introduced  to  the  leading 
members  of  the  society,  and  was  presented  with  their  pub- 
lications. I  preached  at  Hackney  Chapel,  where  I  had 
William  and  Mary  Howittas  hearers,  who  were  introduced 
to  me  after  the  sermon,  invited  me  to  spend  some  time  at 
their  house,  showed  me  the  greatest  possible  kindness,  and 
did  as  much  as  good  and  kind  people  could  do  to  make 
my  stay  in  London  a  pleasure  never  to  be  forgotten. 

A  meeting  was  called  in  the  Assembly  room  of  the  Crown 
and  Anchor,  or  the  city  of  London  Tavern,  to  give  me  a  pub- 
lic welcome  to  London,  and  a  great  number,  the  principal 
part,  I  sup|>ose,  of  the  London  Unitarians  met  me  there,  to 
give  me  a  demonstration  of  their  respect  and  good  wishes. 
I  spoke,  and  my  remarks  were  very  favorably  received ;  and 
so  many  and  kind  were  the  friends  tliat  gathered  round 
me,  and  so  strange  and  gratifying  the  position  in  which  I 
found  myself,  that  I  seemed  in  another  world.  The 
contrast  was  so  great  between  the  treatment  to  which  I  had 
so  long  been  accustomed  in  the  New  Connexion,  and  the 
long-continued  and  flattering  ovation  I  was  receiving  from 
so  large  a  multitude  of  the  most  highly  cultivated  peojjle 
in  the  country,  that  if  I  had  lost  my  senses  amid  the  de- 
lightful excutement  it  could  have  been  no  matter  for  wonder. 

But  it  was  more  than  I  Avas  able  to  enjoy.  I  longed  for 
quiet.  I  wanted  to  be  at  home  with  my  wife  and  children, 
and  in  the  society  of  my  less  distinguished,  but  older  and 
more  devoted  friends.  I  fear  I  hardly  showed  myself  thank- 
ful enough  for  the  honor  done  me,  or  made  the  returns  to  my 
new  friends  to  Avhicli  they  were  entitled.  They  must  have 
thought  me  rather  cool  in  private  ;  but  they  knew  that  I 
had  been  bred  a  Methodist,  a  phiin  Methodist,  and  had 
lived  and  moved  among  Methodists  of  the  plainer  kind, 
and  never  before  been  fairly  outside  the  Methodist  w'orld. 
And  some  of  them  knew  that  I  had  not  much  time  for 
pleasure-taking,  sight-seeing,  and.thc  current  kind  of  chat, 
or  even  the  multiplication  of  new  friends  and  acquaintances. 
They  knew  too  that  I  had  a  business  which  required  my  at- 


CALLS  TO  ALL  PARTS  OF  THE  COUNTRY.    195 

tention,  and  a  vast  quantity  of  letters  to  answer,  and  parties 
calling  for   my  help  in  almost  every  part  of  the  country. 

I  was  happy  at  length  to  find  myself  at  liberty  to 
leave  the  metropolis,  and  my  many  new,  a'^reeable  and  gen- 
erous friends  and  acquaintances  there,  and  return  to  quieter 
and  calmer  scenes,  and  more  customary  occupations,  in  the 
country. 

But  I  never  was  permitted  to  confine  myself  within 
my  old  circle  of  acquaintances,  and  my  old  sphere  of  labor, 
after  my  visit  to  London,  Accounts  of  my  London 
meetings  were  given  in  the  Unitarian  newspapers-  and  pe- 
riodicals, and  spread  abroad  through  the  whole-  country. 
The  result  was,  I  received  invitations  to  preach  and  lecture 
from  almost  every  town  of  importance  throughout  the  king- 
dom, and  from  many  places  that  were*  not  of  so- much  im- 
portance; and  many  of  those  invitations  J  wa&  induced  to 
accept.  I  visited  Bristol,  and  had'  a  welcome  there  as  grat- 
ifying and  almost  as  flattering  as  my  London  one.  I  was 
introduced  to  all  the  leading  Unitarians- there,,  and  had  a 
grand  reception,  and  a  course  of  lectures-  in  the  largest  and 
most  splendid  hall  in  the  city.  And  the  place  was-  crowded. 
I  visited  Bridgewater,  Plymouth,  Exeter,  and  Tavistock, 
with  like  results.  And  then  I  had  calls  to- Yarmouth,  Lynn, 
Bridport,  Northampton,  Taunton,  Birmingham,  Sheffield, 
Hull,  Manchester,  Liverpool,  Bolton,  Stockton,  and  other 
places  without  number;  And  everywhere  I  found  myself 
in  very  agreeable  society,  and  in-  every  place  I  met  with 
real,  hearty,  and  generous  friends^.  It  is  true  I  met  with 
some  who  had  little  of  religion  but  the  name;  but  I 
met  with  others, and  that  in^ considerable  numbers,  who  really 
feared  and  loved  God,  and  who  were  heartily  desirous  to 
promote  a  living  practical  Christianity  among  their  neigh- 
bors. These  were- delighted  to  see  and*  hear  a  man  who, 
while  he  held  to  a  great  extent  tlieir  own  religious  views, 
was  full  of  Methodistical  zeal  and'  energy,  and  who  had 
power  to  attract,  and  interest,  and"  move  the  masses  of  the 
people.  They  regarded  rae  as- an  Apostle  of  their  faith. 
They  believed  the  millennium  of  enlightened  and  liberal 
Christianity  was  at  hand.  They  hearkened  to  my  counsels, 
and  set  to  work  to  distribute  tracts,  to  improve  their  schools, 
to  establish  new  ones,  to  organize  city  missions,  to  employ 


196    UNITARIAN  REVIVAL.      THE  FIRE  WON't   BURN. 

local  preachers,  and  to  circulate  books  of  a  popular  and 
rousing  character.  And  both  they  and  I  believed  that  a 
great  and  lasting  revival  of  pure  unadulterated  religion  was 
at  hand.  And  it  took  some  time  to  dissipate  these  pleas- 
ant hopes,  and  throw  the  well  disposed  and  more  pious 
part  of  the  Unitarians  down  into  the  depths  of  despondency 
again.     But  the  melancholy  period  arrived  at  length. 

You  cannot  kindle  a  fire  and  keep  it  burning  in  the 
depths  of  the  sea.  And  it  is  as  hard  to  revive  a  dead  or  dying 
church,  especially  when  its  ministers  and  schools  are  sup- 
ported by  old  endowments,  and  when  many  of  its  most  in- 
fluential members  have  caught  the  infection  of  infidelity, 
and  become  mere  selfish,  flesh-pleasing  worldlings. 

And  this  was  the  case  with  Unitarians.  Many  of  the 
trustees,  and  a  considerable  portion  of  the  wealthier" mem- 
bers, cared  nothing  for  religion.  Others  had  no  regard  for 
anything  about  Christianity  but  tiie  name  and  a  little 
of  the  form.  Some  had  such  a  hatred  of  what  tliey  called 
Methodist  fanaticism,  that  they  shrank  from  any  manifes- 
tation of  religious  life  or  earnestness.  And  they  had  such 
a  horror  of  cant,  that  they  canted  on  the  other  side.  Their 
talk  about  religion  was  little  else  but  cant.  Their  talk 
about  cant  itself  was  cant.  They  had  quite  a  dislike  of  any 
thing  like  religious  zeal,  and  had  a  dread  of  any  one  who 
had  been  a  Methodist,  especially  if  he  retained  any  of  his 
Methodistical  earnestness.  The  word  unction  was  a  terra 
of  reproach,  and  the  rich,  invaluable  treasure  for  which  it 
stood  was  an  offence.  They  wished  to  enjoy  themselves  in 
a  quiet,  easy,  self-indulgent,  fashionable  way,  and  have  just 
so  much  of  the  form  and  appearance  of  religion  as  was  re- 
quisite to  a  first  class  worldly  reputation.  They  had  no 
desire  to  be  regarded  as  skeptics  or  unbelievers  ;  that  M'ould 
liave  been  as  bad  as  to  have  been  reputed  Methodists ;  but 
they  would  have  nothing  to  do  Avith  any  schemes  or  efforts 
for  the  revival  of  religious  feeling  in  their  churches,  or  with 
any  interference  with  the  customary  habits  or  quiet  world- 
liness  of  their  peaceable  neighbors.  Some,  and  in  certain 
districts  many,  even  of  the  poorer  members,  were  utterly 
indifferent,  and  in  some  cases  even  opposed,  to  any  religion. 
In  some  cases  both  rich  and  poor  had  become  grossly  im- 
moral.    Their  churches  had  degenerated  into  eating  and 


DEGENEEACY.      UNITARIAN    INFIDELITY.  197 

driuking  clubs.  The  endowments  were  spent  in  periodical 
feasts.  There  were  also  cases  in  which  the  chapel  and 
school  endowments  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  individuals 
or  families,  who  looked  on  them  and  used  ttTem  very  much 
as  private  property.  The  schools  and  congregations  had 
disappeared,  and  even  the  chapels  and  school-houses  were 
rapidly  hastening  to  ruin. 

And  there  was  everywhere  a  tendency  downward  from 
the  Christian  to  the  infidel  level.  If  churches  do  not  labor 
for  the  conversion  of  the  world,  and  endeavor  to  become 
themselves  more  Christ-like  and  godly,  degeneracy,  and 
utter  degradation  and  ruin  are  inevitable.  And  the  ten- 
dency, at  the  time  to  which  I  refer,  throughout  the  whole 
little  world  of  Unitarianisra  was  downwards  to  utter  unbe- 
lief. In  many  minds  there  was  as  much  impatience  with 
old-fashioned  moderate  Unitarianism,  as  with  old-fashioned 
Christianity  or  Methodism.  They  wanted  preachers  who 
would  openly  assail  the  doctrine  of  the  divine  or  special  in- 
spiration of  the  Bible,  and  the  supernatural  origin  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  try  to  bring  people  down  or  up  to  the  j)agan 
or  infidel  level  of  mere  sense  and  reason. 

The  Unitarians  required  no  profession  of  faith ;  so  that 
deists  and  atheists  had  the  same  title  to  membership  as 
believers  in  Christ.  They  administered  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per, but  they  had  no  church  discipline,  so  that  people 
defiled  with  the  filthiest  vices  had  the  same  right  to  com- 
municate as  people  of  the  rarest  virtues.  Even  the  minis- 
ters were  not  required  to  make  any  profession  of  faith,  so 
that  deists  and  atheists  were  admitted,  not  only  into  the 
churches,  but  into  the  pulpits. 

I  was  not  aware  of  these  things  when  I  first  became  iden- 
tified with  the  Body.  It  is  possible  that  the  Body  was  not 
so  corrupt  at  that  time  as  it  was  after.  Any  way,  at  the 
time  of  my  return  from  infidelity  to  Christianity,  both  deists 
and  atheists  were  among  the  ministers.  If  any  find  it  hard 
to  believe  these  things,  let  them  read  my  pamphlet  on 
Unitarianism,  where  they  will  find  testimony  from  leading 
Unitarians  themselves,  to  the  truth  of  these  statements. 

Whatever  encouragement  therefore  certain  portions  of 
the  Unitarian  Body  might  give  to  a  man  like  me,  the  in- 
fluence of  the  Body  generally  was  sure  to  render  my  labor* 


198  LABOR   IN    VAIN.      GETS   INFECTED. 

of  little  or  no  avail.  If  the  more  religious  portion  of  the 
ministers  and  members  had  been  willing  to  come  out  from 
the  Body,  and  leave  their  old-fashioned  buildings  and  en- 
dowments behind  them,  they  might  have  done  some  good ; 
but  this  they  were  not  prepared  to  do.  Many  even  of  the 
better  class  of  Unitarian  ministers  were  foud  of  a  quiet  lit- 
erary life.  They  were  students,  scholars,  and  gentlemen, 
rather  than  preachers  and  apostles.  They  were  too  good  to 
be  where  they  were,  and  yet  not  robust,  and  daring,  and 
energetic  enough  to  make  their  way  into  more  useful  jiosi- 
tions.  And  their  style  of  preaching  was  not  popular.  It 
never  would  have  moved  the  masses.  Indeed  much  of  it 
would  have  been  unintelligible  to  the  kind  of  people  who 
crowded  to  my  meetings.  They  could  not  therefore  have 
moved  into  my  sphere  without  exposing  themselves  to  want. 
If  some  one  could  have  gone  and  helped  them  in  their  own 
work,  in  their  own  spheres,  it  might  have  answered  for 
tliem;  but  it  would  not  have  answered  for  them  to  come 
out  and  battle  with  the  rude,  coarse,  outside  world.  And 
even  if  good,  earnest  ministers  had  gone  to  their  aid,  it 
would  have  caused  a  rupture  and  division  in  the  church. 

My  labors  therefore  could  do  little  more  than  rouse  the 
better  portion  of  the  Body  to  a  temporary  zeal  and  activity, 
and  transfer  a  number  of  my  friends  to  their  communion. 

And  I  and  my  friends  were  out  of  our  place,  and  out 
of  our  element,  in  their  society.  The  earnest  words  we 
spoke  were  not  '  like  fire  among  dry  stubble ;'  but  like 
sjiarks  falling  into  the  water.  Instead  of  us  kindling  them, 
they  extinguished  us.  The  '  strong  man  armed'  who  had 
got  possession  of  the  Unitarian  House,  was  too  strong  to  be 
overpowered  and  cast  out  by  anything  short  of  a  miracle 
of.  Omnipotence.  And  that  was  out  of  the  question. 
Christ  can  save  individuals,  but  not  churches.  To  mem- 
bers of  a  dead  or  depraved  church  his  words  arc,  *  Come 
out  of  her,  my  people.'  And  there  was,  and  there  is,  no 
revival,  no  salvation,  for  Unitarians,  but  by  their  abandon- 
ment of  the  Unitarian  fellowship,  and  their  return  to  Christ 
as  individuals.  So  you  may  guess  what  followed.  I  had 
got  where  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  do  others  much  good, 
even  if  I  had  been  better  myself,  and  where  it  >vas  irajjos- 
sible  for  me  to  prevent  others  from  doing  me  most  serious 


CHANNING's  and   THEODORE  PAEKER's  WORKS.     199 

harm.  I  was  on  an  inclined  plane,  tending  ever  down- 
ward, with  all  surrounding  influences  calculated  to  render 
my  descent  every  day  more  rapid. 

Down  this  inclined  plane  I  gradually  slidftill  I  reached  at 
length  the  land  of  doubt  and  unbelief.  My  descent  was 
very  slow.  It  took  me  several  years  to  pass  from  the  more 
moderate  to  the  more  extravagant  forms  of  Unitarianism. 

When  I  first  read  the  works  of  Dr.  Channing,  though 
I  was  delighted  beyond  measure  with  many  portions  of  his 
writings,  I  had  a  great  dislike  for  some  of  his  remarks 
about  Christ  and  the  Atonement.  And  when  I  first  resolved 
to  publish  an  edition  of  his  works,  I  intended  to  add  notes, 
with  a  view  to  neutralize  the  tendency  of  his  objectionable 
views  ;  but  by  the  time  I  got  his  works  into  the  press,  those 
views  appeared  objectionable  no  longer. 

I  still  however  regarded  portions  of  Theodore  Parker's 
works  with  horror.  His  rejection  of  miracles,  and  of  the 
supernatural  origin  of  Christiauity,  seemed  inexcusable. 
And  many  a  time  was  I  shocked  while  reading  liis  ^'Dis- 
course on  Hatters  pertaining  to  Ii(Tigion"  by  the  contempt- 
uous manner  in  which  he  spoke  of  portions  of  the  sacred 
Scriptures.  I  was  enchanted  with  many  parts  of  the  book  ; 
but  how  a  man  of  so  much  learning,  and  with  such  amazing 
powers,  and  with  so  much  love  and  admiration  of  Christ, 
and  God,  and  goodness,  could  go  to  such  extremes  seemed 
a  mystery.  And  I  resolved,  that  if  ever  I  published  an 
edition  of  his  works,  I  would  add  a  reftitation  of  his  re- 
volting extravagances.  Yet  time,  and  intercourse  with  the 
more  advanced  Unitarians,  brought  me,  in  a  few  years,  to 
look  on  Parker  as  my  model  man. 

When  I  first  heard  an  Unitarian  say,  '' Superr.aturalism 
is  superstition,"  I  gave  him  to  understand  that  I  did  not 
feel  easy  in  his  company.  "  You  are  right,"  said  Dr.  Bate- 
man,  "  Pay  no  regard  to  such  extreme  views  :  preach  your 
ov\'n  old-fashioned  practical  doctrines."  This  made  me  feel 
more  at  ease.  Yet  the  gentleman  who  spoke  to  me  thus, 
as  I  afterwards  found,  was  himself  an  anti-supernaturalist. 
But  he  saw  that  I  had  to  be  dealt  witli  carefully, — that  I 
was  not  to  be  hurried  or  argued,  but  led  gently  and  uncon- 
sciously, into  ultra  views.  This  was  the  gentleman  that 
busied   himself  more  than  any  other  in  obtaining  subscrip- 


200  DEBATE   WITH  KEY.   W,   COOKE. 

tions  towards  the  steam  press.  He  professed  to  like  my 
supernatural  beliefs  much  better  than  the  anti-supernatural 
views  of  the  extremer  portion  of  his  brethren.  And  per- 
haps he  did  like  them  better,  though  he  had  lost  the  power 
to  believe  them  himself.  But  whether  he  liked  them  or 
not,  he  won  my  confidence,  and  gained  an  influence  over  me, 
v/hich  an  honest  avowal  of  his  opinions,  and  especially  an 
open  attempt  to  induce  me  to  accept  them,  would  have 
rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to  gain. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  I  still  retained  many  of  my  old 
methodistical  habits,  and  tastes,  and  sensibilities.  My  mind 
was  still  imbued  to  a  considerable  extent  with  true  religious 
feeling.  My  head  had  changed  faster  than  my  heart.  And 
I  still  took  delight  in  reading  a  number  of  my  old  religious 
books.  And  I  had  no  disposition  to  indulge  myself  in 
worldly  amusements.  I  could  not  be  induced  to  go  to  a 
theatre,  or  even  to  a  concert.  I  would  not  play  at  draughts 
or  chess.  I  hated  cards.  And  all  this  time  I  held  myself 
prepared  to  defend,  in  public  discussion,  what  I  considered 
to  be  the  substance  of  Christianity.  An  arrangement  was 
actually  made  for  a  public  debate  on  Christianity  about 
this  time,  between  me  and  Mr.  Holyoake.  It  was  to  take 
place  at  Halifax,  and  I  attended  at  the  time,  and  stated 
my  views  in  two  lectures ;  but  Mr.  Holyoake  did  not 
attend.  He  was  prevented  from  doing  so  by  illness,  it 
was  said. 

Some  of  the  publications  which  I  issued  about  this  time, 
in  reply  to  one  sent  forth  by  the  Rev.  W.  Cooke,  led  to  a 
j)ublic  discussion  between  me  and  that  gentleman,  in  the 
Lecture-room,  NoAvcastle-on-Tyne.  Mr.  Cooke  was  a 
minister — the  ablest  minister — in  the  Body  to  which  I  my- 
self had  formerly  belonged.  The  list  of  subjects  for  debate 
included  the  following : — "  "What  is  a  Christian  ?  What  is 
the  Scripture  doctrine  Avith  regard  to  the  Atonement  ? 
What  is  Saving  Faith  ?  What  do  the  Scriptures  teach 
with  regard  to  Original  Sin,  or  Natural  Depravity,  The 
Trinity,  The  Divinity  of  Christ,  The  Hired  Ministrj'^,  and 
Future  Punishment?" 

The  discussion  lasted  ten  nights,  and  every  night  the 
room  was  crowded  to  its  utmost  capacity.  The  excitement 
was  intense.     And  it  pervaded  the  whole  country.     There 


BOTH   BEAT.      PERSECUTION.  201 

were  persons  present  from  places  nearly  two  hundred  miles 
distant.     Hugh  Miller,  the  Scotch  geologist,  was  there  one 
night.     As  usual,  both  parties  considered  themselves  victo- 
rious.    And  both  were  right.     Neither  the  truth  nor  tlie 
error  was  all  on  one  side;  nor  was  the  argument.     Christi- 
anity was  something  different  from  the  creed  of  either  party, 
and  something  more  and  better.     It  was  more  and  better 
than  the  creeds  of  both  parties  put  together.     jSIy  opponent, 
though  something  of  a  Christian,  was  more  of  a  theologian. 
He  was  committed  to  a  system,  and  could  not  see  beyond 
it,  or  dared  not  accept  any  views  at  variance  with  its  doc- 
trines.    Hence  he  went  in  direct  opposition  to  the  plainest 
teachings  of  the  Scriptures,  and  the  clearest  dictates  of  com- 
mon sense.     He  found  it  necessary  also,  to  spend  a  portion 
of  his  time  in  foolish  criticisms  on  Greek  and  Hebrew  words, 
and  in  efforts  to  make  the  worse  appear  the  better  reason. 
As  for  myself,  I  was  committed  to  change.     I  was  travel- 
ling downwards  at  the  time,  at  a  rather  rapid  rate,  and  was 
nof  to  be  turned  back,  or  even  made  to  slacken  my  pace. 
The  ordinary  kind  of  theological  vanities  I  regarded  with 
the  utmost  contempt,  and  I  had  come  to  look  on  some  por- 
tions even  of  Christ's  own  teachings  as  nothing  more  than 
doubtful  human  opinions.     I  held  to  the  great  foundation 
truths  of  religion,  and  to  the  general  principles  of  Chris- 
tian truth  and  duty,  and,  I  will  not  say,  defended  them,  for 
they  needed  no  defence  beyond  their  own  manifest  reason- 
ableness and  excellence, — but  stated  them  both  with  suffi- 
cient clearness  and  fulness.     But  neither  party  was  in   a 
state  of  mind  to  learn  from  the  other.  War,  whether  it  be 
a  war  of  words,  or  a  war  of  deadlier  weapons,  tends  gener- 
allv  to  widen  the  differences  and  increase  the  antipathies 
of 'the  combatants.     And  so  it  was  here.     And  one  party 
certainly   went  further   and  travelled    flister  in   the  way 
of  error  after  this  exciting  contest  than  he  had  done  before. 
And  greater  extremes  produced  more  bitterness  of  feeling 
in  my  opponents.     One  man  wished  me  dead,  and  said  to 
a  near  relation  of  mine,  "  If  there  was  a  rope  round  his 
neck,  and  I  had  hold  of  it,  I  would   hang  him  myself." 
And  this  was  a  man  remarkable,  in  general,  for  his  meek- 
ness and  gentleness.     Another  said  he  "should  like  to  stick 
me:"  but  he  w\as  a  butcher.     Another  person,  a  woman, 


202  THE   BIBLE   QUESTION. 

said,  "  Hanging  would  be  too  good  for  him :  hell  is  not 
bad  enough  lor  iiini/^  There  was  one  even  among  my  re- 
lations that  would  not  speak  to  me;  a  relation  that  before 
had  regarded  me  with  pride.  At  some  places  where  I  was 
announced  to  lecture,  men  organized  and  plotted  to  do  me 
bodily  injury,  and  in  some  cases  they  threatened  me  with 
death.  On  more  than  one  occasion  I  had  narrow  escapes 
with  my  life.  Once  I  was  struck  on  the  head  with  a  brick, 
whicih  almost  took  away  my  consciousness,  and  came  near 
putting  an  end  to  my  life.  On  another  occasion  I  was 
hunted  by  a  furious  mob  for  hours,  and  had  repeated  hair- 
breadtii  escapes  from  their  violence.  One  man  advocated 
my  assassination  in  a  jsewspajicr,  and  the  editor  inserted  the 
article,  and  quietly  gave  it  his  sanction. 

All  this  was  natural,  but  it  was  not  Christian,  nor  was  it 
wise.  "  The  wrath  of  man  worketh  not  the  righteousness 
of  God."  Hard  bricks  have  no  tendency  to  soften  a  man's 
heart"..  These  attempts  to  force  me  into  submission  made 
me  more  rebellious.  They  roused  my  indignation  to  the 
highest  pitch,  and  fearfully  increased  my  hatred  of  the 
churches  and  their  creeds,  and  made  me  feel  as  if  I  ouglit 
to  wage  against  my  persecutors  an  unsparing  and  eternal 
war. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    BIBLE     QUESTION.       INSPIRATION,     INFALLIBILITY. 
HISTORY   OF    MY   VIEWS   ON   THE   SUBJECT. 

A     P  R  A  Y  E  K  . 

Help  me,  O  Thou  Great  Good  Father  of  my  spirit,  in 
the  work  on  which  I  am  now  about  to  enter.  Enable  me, 
on  the  great  and  solemn  subject  on  which  I  am  now  to 
speak,  to  separate  the  true  from  the  fldse,  the  doubtful  from 
the  certain,  the  important  from  the  unimportant.  And 
may  I  be  enabled  to  make  all  plain.  And  save  me,  O  my 
Fatlier,  from  going  too  far.  Let  rae  not  run  to  any  ex- 
treme. Yet  enable  me  to  go  far  enough.  May  I  not, 
through  needless  fear,  or  through  any  evil  motive,  be  kept 
from  spealcing  anything  that  ought  to  be  said.     I  am  Thine, 


DISCOVERIES   ABOUT   THE    BIBLE.  203 

O  my  God;  use  me  according  to  Thy  will,  for  the  service 
of  Thy  Church,  and  for  the  welfare  of  the  workl.  I  am 
every  moment  accountable  to  Thee ;  h(;lp  me  so  to  Sj^eak 
that  I  may  be  at  peace  with  my  own  soul,  rflfid  have  a  sweet 
assurance  of  Thy  approbation.  Fill  my  soul,  O  my  Fa- 
ther, with  the  spirit  of  love,  of  truth,  of  tenderness,  and 
of  all  goodness.  Guide  Thou  my  pen,  and  control  my 
spirit.  Grant  that  I  may  so  write,  that  I  may  do  some 
good  and  no  harm.  May  Thy  people  endeavor  to  do  jus- 
tice to  what  I  say.  If  any  one,  through  error  or  evil  dis- 
position, should  do  me  wrong,  help  me  to  bear  the  trial 
with  Christian  meekness  and  patience.  And  may  the  time 
at  length  come,  when  the  religion  of  Christ,  so  full  of  truth 
and  love,  shall  be  understood  and  embraced  by  all  man- 
kind, and  when  by  its  blessed  and  transforming  power  the 
earth  shall  become  the  abode  of  purity,  and  love,  and  bliss. 
Amen. 


It  may  not  be  amiss  to  state  now,  how  far  I  had  gone  at 
this  time,  with  regard  to  my  views  on  the  Bible. 

1 .  I  remember  a  time,  when  I  believed  that  the  Bible  in 
which  my  father  read,  came  down  direct  from  God  out 
of  heaven,  just  as  it  was.  I  looked  on  it  as  simply  and 
purely  divine. 

2.  I  afterwards  learnt  that  the  Bible  was  printed  on 
earth,  and  that  it  was  a  translation  from  other  books  which 
had  been  written  in  Greek  and  Hebi'ew. 

3.  But  I  still  supposed  that  the  Greek  and  Hebrew  Bible 
was  wholly  divine,  and  that  the  translation  was  as  perfect 
as  the  original. 

4.  I  next  learned  that  the  translation  was  not  ])erfect, — 
that  the  translators  were  sometimes  ili  doubt  as  to  the  mean- 
ing of  the  original,  and  put  one  meaning  in  the  body  of  the 
page,  and  another  in  the  margin, — that  in  other  cases  they 
had  misunderstood  the  original,  and  given  erroneous  trans- 
lations. I  sometimes  heard  preachers  correcting  the  trans- 
lation of  passages,  and  when  I  came  to  read  commentaries 
and  other  theological  works,  I  found  the  authors  doing  the 
same  thing. 

5.  I  then  found  that  there  were  several  translations  of  the 
Scriptures,  one  by  Wesley,  one  by  Campbell,  and  others  by 


204  FACTS  ABOUT   THE   BIBLE. 

other  men,  and  that  they  all  differed  from  each  other,  and 
that  none  of  them  could  be  regarded  as  wholly  correct. 
When  I  read  the  Notes  of  Adam  Clarke  on  the  Bible,  I 
found  that  he  often  differed  from  all  the  translators,  and 
that  in  some  cases  he  differed  from  them  very  widely. 

6.  I  still  supposed  that  the  originals  were  perfect ;  that  in 
them  we  had  the  words  of  God  just  as  they  came  from  His 
own  mind. 

7.  But  I  afterwards  found  that  there  were  several  originals, 
— or  at  least  several  Greek  and  Hebrew  Bibles, — and  that 
they  also  differed  from  each  other  to  some  extent,  and  that 
none  of  them   could   be  said  to  be  entirely  free  from  error. 

8.  I  learnt  from  Adam  Clarke  and  others  that  the  printed 
Greek  and  Hebrew  Bibles  had  been  compiled  from  manu- 
scripts,— or  from  Bibles,  or  portions  of  the  Bible,  written 
by  the  hand,  before  the  art  of  printing  was  known. 

9.  I  also  found  that  those  manuscripts  differed  from  each 
other,  in  a. great  many  places,  and  that  in  some  cases  they 
differed  on  points  supposed  to  be  of  considerable  importance, 
and  that  it  was  impossible  to  tell  which  of  the  manuscripts 
were  most  correct. 

10.  I  also  learnt,  that  all  existing  manuscripts  were 
copies  of  other  manuscripts,  and  that  the  real  original 
books,  the  books  Avritten  by  Moses  and  the  Prophets, 
and  by  the  Evangelists  and  Apostles,  were  all  lost,  so  that 
it  was  impossible  to  tell,  with  absolute  certainty,  whether 
any  of  the  manuscripts  were  absolutely  correct, — that  when 
the  best  and  ablest  men  on  earth  had  done  their  utmost, 
there  would  still  be  room  for  doubt  as  to  the  true  read- 
ing, as  well  as  to  the  correct  meaning,  of  various  portions 
of  Scripture. 

11.  I  next  learned  that  there  M^ere  differences  of  opinion 
among;  critics  and  divines  as  to  whether  certain  books  ouirht 
to  have  a  place  in  the  Bible  or  not.  In  my  father's  Bible 
there  were  several  books  called  the  Apocrypha.  Some 
of  these  were  very  interesting.  I  used  to  read  them  with 
a  great  deal  of  pleasure.  And  large  portions  of  others, 
especially  those  called  The  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  and 
JFJccIrsiasticus,  seemed  as  good,  as  true,  and  as  beautiful  as 
anything  in  the  Book  of  Proverbs.  INIy  parents  however 
told   me,  that  those  books  were  not  to  be   put  on   a  level 


MORE    FACTS.  205 

with  the  other  books  of  the  Bible, — that  there  was  some 
mystery  about  their  origin,  and  that  there  was  some  doubt 
whether  they  were  really  a  part  of  the  word  of  God. 

12.  I  afterwards  learnt  though,  that  titey  were  regarded 
as  part  of  God's  word  by  the  Catholics,  and  I  continued  to 
read  large  portions  of  them  with  much  satisfaction  and 
profit. 

13.  I  also  learnt  from  Adam  Clarke  and  others,  that  there 
had  been  doubts  in  the  minds  of  some  of  the  ancient  Chris- 
tians with  regard  to  the  right  of  some  of  the  Epistles  and 
of  the  Book  of  Revelation  to  be  admitted  as  parts  of  the 
Bible.  And  I  afterwards  found  that  the  Book  of  Eevela- 
tion  was  excluded  from  the  Bible  by  the  Greek  Church, 
and  by  Luther  as  well : — and  that  Luther  had  but  little 
regard'  for  the  Epistle  of  James,  one  of  the  finest  portions 
of  the  whole  Bible  as  I  thought. 

14.  I  further  learnt  that  some  had  doubts  as  to  the  right 
of  Solomon's  Song  to  a  place  in  the  Bible,  and  I  found  that 
even  Adam  Clarke  did  not  believe  that  it  had  any  spiritual 
meaning. 

All  these  were  facts  ;  and  I  learned  them  all  from  Chris- 
tian authors  of  the  highest  repute  for  learning  and  piety. 
And  so  long  as  things  went  on  smoothly,  they  had  not,  so 
far  as  I  can  remember,  any  injurious  effect  on  my  mind. 
But  when,  after  having  been  harassed  for  years  by  the  in- 
tolerance of  my  brethren,  I  was  expelled  from  the  ministry 
and  the  church,  and  finally  placed  in  a  hostile  position 
Avith  regard  to  the  great  body  of  Christians  and  Christian 
ministers,  I  began  to  see,  that  those  facts  were  incompati- 
ble with  the  views  and  theories  of  the  divine  inspiration 
and  absolute  perfection  of  the  Bible  held  by  my  opponents. 
I  came  very  slowly  to  see  this,  and  after  I  saw  it  I  was 
slow  to  speak  on  the  subject  in  my  publications;  but  the 
time  to  see  and  to  speak  arrived  at  length. 

One  of  my  New  Connection  opponents,  by  repeated 
charges  of  infidelity,  and  by  statements  about  the  Scrip- 
tures which  I  knew  he  could  not  maintain,  got  me  into 
controversy  on  the  subject.  Then  I  uttered  all  that  was  in 
my  mind.  I  showed  that  many  of  the  things  which  he  had 
said  about  the  Bible  were  not  true, — that  they  were  incon- 
sistent with  plain  unquestionable  facts, — with  facts  acknow- 


206  MORE   FACTS   STILL. 

IcJged  by  all  the  divines  on  earth  of  any  consequence,  and 
known  even  to  himself  and  his  brethren. 

While  engaged  in  this  controversy  I  made  discoveries 
of  other  facts  inconsistent  with  the  views  of  my  persecutors, 
and  pressed  them  upon  my  opponent  without  mercy.  And 
the  violent  and  resentful  feeling  excited  by  his  unfairness, 
dishonesty  and  malignity  in  defending  the  Bible,  led  me 
probably  to  be  less  concerned  for  its  claims  than  I  other- 
wise should  have  been.  Suffice  it  to  say,  I  came  out  of  the 
debate  with  my  savage  opponent,  not  a  disbeliever  in  the 
Bible  or  Christianity,  but  with  views  farther  removed  from 
those  which  he  contended  for,  and  with  feelings  much  less 
hostile  to  heterodox  extremes  perhaps  than  those  with 
which  I  entered  it. 

Among  the  views  I  was  led  to  entertain  and  promulgate 
with  regard  to  the  Bible  about  this  time,  were  the  follow- 
ing. 

1.  We  have  no  proof  that  the  different  portions  of  the 
Bible  were  absolutely  perfect  as  they  came  from  the  hands 
of  the  writers.  The  probability  is  on  the  other  side.  For 
if  an  absolutely  perfect  book  had  been  necessary  for  man, 
it  would  have  been  as  necessary  to  Icccp  it  perfect,  as  to 
make  it  perfect.  And  as  God  has  not  seen  fit  to  keep  it 
perfect,  we  have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  He  made  it  so. 

2.  But  in  truth,  to  write  an  absolutely  perfect  book  in 
an  imperfect  language,  is  impossible.  And  all  human 
languages  are  imperfect.  The  Hebrew  language,  in  which 
the  greater  part  of  the  Bible  was  written,  is  very  imperfect. 
And  it  seems  to  have  been  much  more  imperfect  in  those 
times  when  the  Bible  was  written,  than  it  is  now.  And 
the  Greek  language,  in  Avhich  the  remainder  of  the  Bible 
was  written,  was  imperfect.  And  the  Greek  used  in  the 
New  Testament  is  not  the  best  Greek  ; — it  is  not  the  Greek 
of  the  Classics. 

3.  And  both  Greek  and  Hebrew  now  are  dead  languages, 
and  have  been  so  for  many  ages.  This  renders  them  more 
im|)erfeot  in  some  respects :  it  makes  it  harder  in/ many 
(';ts(>s  to  ascertain  the  sense  in  which  words,  and  particular 
forms  of  expression,  are  used  by  the  writers.  With  regai-d 
to  the  Hebrew,  we  have  no  other  books  in  that  langnnge, 
written  in  those  early  ages  when  the  dilferent  parts  of  the 


AND   MORE   STILL.  207 

Bible  were  written,  to  assist  us  iu  ascertaining  the  sense  in 
which  words  were  used. 

4.  Tiie  writers  of  Scripture  differ  very  much  from  one 
another  both  in  style  and  matter,  and  ttteir  works  diiier 
greatly  in  worth  and  usefulness.  Ezekiel  is  much  more 
obscure  than  Jeremiah ;  and  Jeremiah  is  less  plain  than 
Isaiah.  Many  of  the  figures,  and  some  of  the  visions 
of  Ezekiel,  seem  coarse,  and  some  of  them  appear  unintelli- 
gible. And  the  matter  of  many  parts  of  Ezekiel's  prophe- 
cies seems  inferior  to  that  of  the  prophecies  of  Jeremiah  and 
Isaiah.  Some  portions  of  Ezekiel  are  very  valuable;  they 
are  good  and  useful  to  the  last  degree.  But  other  portions, 
whatever  value  they  might  have  for  persons  of  former 
times  and  other  lands,  have  none,  that  I  can  see,  for  us. 

5.  Some  portions  of  Jeremiah,  and  even  of  Isaiah,  appear 
to  have  little  that  is  calculated  to  be  of  use  in  the  present 
day.  Indeed  some  portions  seem  unintelligible.  But 
many  jjortions  of  the  writings  of  both  those  prophets  abound 
in  the  most  touching,  startling,  and  useful  lessons. 

6.  And  so  with  Daniel  and  the  minor  prophets.  The 
darkness  and  the  li^ht,  and  thino-s  more  useful  and  things 
less  useful,  are  mingled  in  them  all. 

7.  It  is  the  same  with  the  New  Testament.  Some  portions 
of  Paul's  writings  are  as  ])lain  as  they  well  can  be  ;  others  are 
very  obscure,  perhaps  quite  unintelligible.  Some  passages  in 
the  controversial  portions  of  his  Epistles  to  tlieHomans  and 
the  Galatians,  and  considerable  parts  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews,  are  dark  as  night  to  many  ;  and  I  fear  that  those 
who  think  they  understand  them,  are  under  a  delusion.  And 
as  portions  of  these  Epistles  were  wrested  by  the  unlearned 
and  unconfirmed  in  Peter's  time,  so  have  they  been  mistaken 
for  lessons  in  moral  laxity  since.  And  still  they  are  used 
by  many  as  props  for  immoral  and  blasphemous  doctrines. 

8.  And  what  shall  we  say  of  the  Book  of  Revelation? 
Adam  Clarke  thought  he  understood  it  as  well  as  any  one, 
yet  acknowledged  that  he  did  not  understand  it  at  all.  And 
though  there  are  several  passages  that  are.  both  plain  and 
practical,  and  many  that  are  most  wondrously  and  sublime- 
ly poetical,  and  some  few  that  are  rich  both  in  truth  and 
tenderness,  yet,  as  a  whole,  the  Book  is  exceedingly,  if  not 
impenetrably,  dark. 


208  NO   ABSOLUTE   PERFECTION    IN   BOOKS. 

9.  Some  portions  of  the  Old  Testament  history  are  given 
twice  over,  as  in  the  Books  of  Kings  and  Chronicles,  and 
the  two  accounts,  in  some  cases,  seem  to  be  irreconcilable 
with  each  other.  The  numbers  often  differ,  and  some 
of  them  seem  altogether  too  large.  The  accounts  agree 
well  enough,  and  the  statements  are  credible  enough,  as  a 
rule,  on  matters  of  great  importance ;  but  on  smaller  mat- 
ters there  are  many  plain  discrepancies. 

Some  other  portions  of  the  Bible,  including  two  or  three 
of  the  Psalms,  are  given  twice  over. 

10.  Then  who  that  reads  the  Proverbs  attentively  can 
help  seeing,  that  some  of  them  are  much  plainer,  and  cal- 
culated to  be  nmch  more  useful,  than  others.  Many  of  them 
are  rich  in  wisdom  and  goodness  beyond  measure ;  but 
others  appear  to  have  neither  much  of  beauty,  nor  much 
of  utility. 

11.  And  the  Psalms  are  not  all  of  equal  excellence. 
Some  contain  terrible  outpourings  of  hatred  and  vengeance. 
Many  contain  fierce  and  resentful  expressions.  And 
though  these  things  were  excusable  in  early  times,  and 
were,  in  fact,  not  wicked,  but  only  a  lower  form  of  virtue, 
we  cannot  but  feel  their  great  inferiority  to  the  teachings 
and  spirit  of  Jesus.  But  taken  as  a  whole,  the  Psalms 
are  miracles  of  beauty  and  sublimity,  of  tenderness  and 
majesty,  of  purity  and  piety,  of  wisdom  and  righteousness. 
They  are  a  heaven  of  bright  constellations ;  a  world 
of  glory  and  blessedness. 

12.  The  Book  of  Job  too  is  a  mixture,  and  to  some  ex- 
tent a  mystery,  but  it  would  be  a  great  loss  to  the  world 
if  it  Avere  to  perish.  The  twenty-ninth  and  thirty-first 
chapters  are  worth  the  whole  literature  of  infidel  philoso- 
phy a  hundred  times  over.  And  many  other  j)ortions 
of  the  book  are  'gems  of  purest  ray  serene,'  and  treasures 
of  incalculable  value. 

13.  And  even  the  Book  of  Ecclesiastes,  while  it  con- 
tains many  things  of  a  strange,  a  dark,  and  a  doubtful 
character,  has  many  oracles  of  wisdom  and  piety.  It  con- 
tains lessons  of  wonderful  beauty,  and  of  great  solemnity 
and  power. 

14.  There  is  a  vast  amount  of  wisdom  and  goodness  in  the 
laws  of  Moses.     I  say  nothing  of  the  laws  that  are  merely 


JUDAISM   AND   CHRISTIANITY.  209 

ceremonial :  but  there  are  lessons  of  great  importance  mixed 
up  even  with  them  at  times.  Take  those  about  the  Naza- 
,rites.  Most  of  them  are  beautiful, '  excellent ;  and  well 
Iwould  it  be  if  people  even  in  our  days  w^uld  accept  them 
as  rules  for  their  own  conduct. 

Then  take  the  laws  which  forbid  the  use  of  wine  and 
strong  drink  to  the  ministering  priests.  They  are  wonder- 
fiilly  wise. 

And  even  the  laws  about  the  different  kinds  of  beasts, 
and  birds,  and  fishes,  that  were  allowed  or  forbidden  as 
food,  are,  on  the  whole,  remarkably  philosophical.  Con- 
sidering the  time  when  they  were  given,  and  the  people 
for  whom  they  were  intended,  and  the  ends  for  M'hich  they 
were  designed,  the  laws  of  ^Moses  generally,  are  worthy 
of  the  highest  praise. 

15.  But  Judaism  is  not  Christianity.  That  which  was  the 
best  for  the  Jews  three  thousand  years  ago,  was  not  the 
best  for  all  mankind  through  all  the  ages  of  time.  Com- 
pared with  the  religions  and  laws  of  surrounding  nations, 
and  of  preceding  ages,  Judaism  was  glorious, — but  compared 
with  Christianity  it  is  no  longer  glorious.  Judaism  com- 
pared with  Paganism,  was  a  wonder  of  wisdom,  philosophy, 
and  righteousness;  but  compared  with  Christianity  it  is 
a  mass  of  ruditnonts,  first  lessons,  beggarly  elements. 

Hence  several  things  contained  in  the  law  of  Moses  are 
repealed  or  forbidden  by  Christ;  still  more  are  quietly 
dropped  and  left  behind;  while  other  portions  are  de- 
veloped, expanded,  and  exalted. 

All  these  things,  and  a  multitude  of  other  things,  have 
to  be  taken  into  account,  if  we  would  form  a  correct 
and  proper  estimate  of  the  Bible.  All  these,  and  quite  a 
multitude  of  other  matters,  should  be  borne  in  mind  when 
we  are  considering  in  what  terms  to  speak  of  the  Book,  and 
in  what  way  to  qualify  our  commendations  of  its  contents. 
I  do  not  believe  it  possible  to  praise  the  Bible  too  highly ; 
but  nothing  is  easier  than  to  praise  it  unwisely,  untruly. 
You  cannot  love  or  prize  the  Bible  too  much ;  but  you  may 
err  as  to  what  constitutes  its  worth.  You  cannot^  over-es- 
timate its  beneficent  power  ;  but  you  may  make  mistakes  as 
to  the  parts  or  properties  of  the  book  in  which  its  strength 
lies.  A  child  can  hardly  value  gold  or  silver  too  highly, 
14 


210  FALSE  THEORIES   OF   BIBLE    INSPIRATION. 

but  he  makes  a  great  mistake  when  he  fancies  theii*  great 
excellency  to  consist  in  the  brightness  of  their  colors.  And 
so  with  reo-ai'd  to  tlie  Bible.  Its  best  friends  and  its  ablest 
eulogists  can  never  think  or  speak  of  it  beyond  its  real 
worth ;  but  they  may  fancy  its  worth  to  consist  in  qualities 
of  secondary  importance,  or  in  a  kind  or  form  of  perfectioE 
which  it  "does  not  possess. 

The  enemies  of  the  Bible  often  speak  evil  of  it  ignorant- 
ly,  from  the  mere  force  of  bad  example,  as  parrots  curse : 
and  the  friends  of  the  Bible  often  speak  well  of  it  igno- 
rantly,  as  parrots  pray.  They  know,  they  feel,  they  are 
sure,  that  the  Bible  is  good, — that  it  does  them  good, — that  it 
purifies  their  souls, — tliat  it  improves  their  characters, — that 
it  makes  them  cheerful,  joyful,  useful,  happy.  Yet  all  the 
time  they  fmcy,  because  they  have  been  erroneously 
taught,  that  the  blessed  volume  owes  its  comforting,  trans- 
forming, and  glorious  power  to  some  metaphysical  nicety, 
or  to  some  unreal  or  impossible  kind  of  perfection. 

When  Christians  attribute  the  sanctifying,  elevating, 
comforting  power  of  the  Bible  to  the  fact  that  it  is  divine- 
ly inspired,  they  are  right.'  But  many  do  not  stop  there. 
They  suppose  that  divine  inspiration  has  given  the  Book 
certain  grammatical,  rhetoricall,  logical,  historical,  scientific 
and  metaphysical  qualities  which  it  has  not  given  it,  and 
they  even  attribute  its  superior  worth  and  saving  power  to 
those  imaginary  qualities. 

It  was  against  the  mistakes  and  mis-statements  of  my 
opponents  that  I  first  wrote,  and  it  was  their  ignorance,  or 
their  want  of  honesty  and  candor,  that  gave  me  at  times 
the  advantage  over  them  in  our  debates  on  the  snbjoct.  It 
was  for  want  of  seeing  things  in  their  proper  light,  and 
])utting  them  in  their  proper  shape  before  their  hearers  and 
readers,  that  made  their  efforts  to  keep  people  from  doubt 
and  unbelief  unavailing.  They,  in  truth,  made  unbelief  or 
infidelity  to  consist  in  "something  in  which  it  did  not  con- 
sist, and  made  people  think  they  were  infidels  when  they 
were  no  such  thing.  If  they  had  given  up  all  that  was  er- 
roneous with  regard  to  the  Bible,  and  undertaken  the  de- 
fence of  nothing  but  what  was  true,  they  might  both  have 
convinced  the  honest  skeptic,  and  strengthened  the  faith 
of  Christians.     But  they  undertook  to  defend  the  false,  and 


FOOLISH   DEFENDERS   OF    THE   BIBLE.  211 

to  assail  the  true,  and  the  consequence  was,  they  were  beat- 
en, and  the  cause  which  they  sought  to  serve  was  injured. 

John  Wesley  says,  that  the  way  to  drive  the  doctrine 
of  Christian  perfection,  or  '  true  holiness,'  j^ut  of  the  world, 
is  to  place  it  too  high, — to  make  it  consist  in  something 
that  is  beyond  man's  power.  And  the  way  to  drive  the 
doctrine  of  the  divine  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures  out 
of  the  world,  is  to  give  the  doctrine  a  form  which  the 
Scri})tures  themselves  do  not  give  it, — to  change  it  from  a 
truth  into  an  error, — to  teach  that  divine  inspiration  pro- 
duces effects  vv'hich  it  does  not  produce, — that  it  imparts 
qualities  which  it  does  not  impart,  and  which  the  Scrip- 
tures themselves  do  not  exhibit. 

And  this  is  what  many  defenders  of  the  Bible  do.  And 
this  is  one  great  cause  both  of  the  increase  of  infidelity,  and 
of  the  confidence  of  its  disciples. 

It  is  impossible  to  prove  the  doctrine  of  the  divine  in- 
spiration of  the  Bible,  as  that  doctrine  is  defined  by  many 
religious  writers.  It  is  not  true.  And  those  who  attempt 
to  prove  that  the  Bible  is  such  a  book,  as  these  false  theo- 
logical theories  of  divine  inspiration  would  require  it  to  be, 
must  always  be  beaten,  in  a  fair  fight,  with  an  able  and 
well-informed  infidel  opponent.  The  man  who  contends 
that  the  Bible  is  all  that  certain  old  theories  of  inspiration 
require  it  to  be,  fights  against  plain  facts,  and  even  his 
friends  will  often  see  and  feel  that  he  has  not  succeeded. 
He  may  say  a  many  fine  things,  a  many  good  things,  a 
many  great  things,  a  many  glorious  things  about  the  Bi- 
ble, and  they  may  all  be  true  :  and  he  may  say  a  many  bad 
things,  a  many  iiorrible  things  against  infidelity,  and  they 
too  may  be  true.  And  his  friends  may  see  and  feel  that, 
on  the  whole,  he  is  substantially  right,  and  that  the  infidel 
is  essentially  wrong.  They  may  see  and  feel  that  on  the 
Christian  side  is  all  that  is  good,  and  true,  and  holy ;  and 
that  on  the  infidel  side  is  a  world  of  darkness  and  depra- 
vity, of  horror  and  despair.  Still,  on  the  one  definite 
point,  '  Is  the  Bible  divinely  inspired  according  to  the 
theory  of  divine  inspiration  laid  down  by  certain  theolo- 
gians,' the  Christian  will  be  beaten  out  and  out, — he  will 
not  only  be  confuted,  but  confounded,  dishonored,  and  ut- 
terly routed.     The  Bible  and  Christianity  will  receive  an 


212  FALSE   VIEWS   OP   BIBLE    INSPIRATION. 

undeserved  wound,  and  infidelity  will  have  an  undeserved 
triumph;  and  many  a  poor  young  man  whose  leanings 
were  towards  the  Bible,  and  who  would  have  liked  its  ad- 
vocate to  triumph,  will  be  disheartened,  distressed,  em- 
barrassed, distracted,  and  perhaps  undone. 

The  true  doctrine  of  Scripture  inspiration,  or  of  Scrip- 
ture authority,  is  about  as  applicable  to  the  common  ver- 
sion, and  to  honest  Christian  translations  generally,  and  to 
all  the  manuscripts,  and  to  all  the  printed  Greek  and  He- 
brew Bibles,  as  it  would  be  to  the  lost  originals  if  they 
could  be  recovered.  There  is  divine  inspiration  enough  in 
the  poorest  translation  of  the  Scriptures,  and  in  the  most 
imperfect  Greek  and  Hebrew  transcript  of  them  ever  made, 
to  place  the  Bible  above  all  the  books  on  earth,  as  a  means 
of  enlightening,  regenerating,  comforting,  and  saving  man- 
kind. But  in  none  of  its  forms  is  the  Bible  so  inspired,  as 
to  make  it  what  the  unauthorized,  fanciful,  impossible 
theories  of  certain  dreamy,  or  proud,  presumptuous,  and 
overbearing  theologians  require  it  to  be. 

I  have  seen  twenty  or  thirty  definitions  of  Scripture  In- 
spiration all  of  which  betray  the  Bible  into  the  hands 
of  its  adversaries.  And  it  is  no  use  expecting  to  convert 
skeptics,  till  these  definitions  are  set  aside,  and  better,  truer 
ones  put  in  their  place.  We  ourselves  pay  no  regard  to 
these  definitions.  They  are  merely  human  fictions.  They 
have  no  warrant  from  Scripture,  and  we  cannot  allow  our- 
selves to  be  hampered  with  them. 

The  passage  in  the  New  Testament  which  speaks  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures  of  the  Old  Testament  as  divinely  inspired, 
gives  us  no  definition  of  divine  inspiration.  It  says,  'All 
Scripture  given  by  inspiration  of  God  is  profitable  for 
teaching,  for  reproof,  for  correction,  for  instruction  in 
righteousness,  tending  to  make  the  man  of  God  perfect, 
thoroughly  furnished  unto  all  good  works  :'  but  it  goes  no 
further.  It  does  not  say  that  all  Scripture  given  by  inspi- 
ration of  God  will  be  written  in  a  superhuman  language, 
or  in  a  superhuman  style.  Nor  does  it  say  that  all  its  al- 
lusions to  natural  things  will  be  perfectly  correct;  that  all 
the  stories  Avhich  it  tells  will  be  told  in  a  superhuman  way. 
Nor  does  it  say  that  all  the  precepts,  and  all  the  institutions, 
and  all  the  revelations,  and  all  the  examples  of  the  Book 


TRUE   VIEW   OF    BIBLE   INSPIEATION.  213 

will  be  up  to  the  level  of  absolute  perfection.  What  the 
passage  does  say  of  such  Scriptures  as  are  given  by  inspira- 
tion of  God,  is  true  of  the  Old  Testament  writings  as  a 
whole,  and  still  truer  of  the  New  Testatnent  writings  :  they 
are  profitable  for  doctrine,  for  reproof,  for  correction,  and 
for  instruction  in  righteousness ;  and  they  are  adapted  to 
make  men  perfect,  thoroughly  furnished  unto  all  good 
works.  All  this  you  can  prove.  But  you  cannot  prove 
that  they  answer  to  the  definitions  of  divine  inspiration  so 
often  given  in  books  of  theology. 

There  is  another  passage  in  the  New  Testament  which 
says  that  '  Whatsoever  things  were  written  aforetime,  were 
written  for  our  learning,  that  we  through  patience  and  com- 
fort of  the  Scriptures  might  have  hope.'  This  too  is  true 
of  the  Old  Testament  writings  as  a  whole  ;  but  it  gives  no 
countenance  to  the  definitions  of  Scripture  inspiration  given 
by  dreamy  theologians. 

Peter  says  that  'holy  men  of  old  spake  as  they  were 
moved  by  the  Holy  Spirit ;'  but  he  does  not  say  that  every- 
thing spoken  or  written  by  holy  men,  when  moved  by  the 
Holy  Spirit,  would  answer  to  some  human  dream  of  abso- 
lute perfection.  He  does  not  say  that  the  holy  men,  when 
moved  to  speak  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  would  cease  to  be  men, 
or  even  be  free  from  all  the  imperfections  or  misconcep- 
tions of  their  age  and  nation,  and  speak  as  if  they  had 
become  at  once  perfect  in  the  knowledge  of  natural  philo- 
sophy, or  of  common  history,  or  even  on  every  point  per- 
taining to  religion.  They  might  speak  as  moved  by  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and  yet  utter  divine  oracles  in  an  imperfect 
human  language,  and  in  a  defective  human  style,  and  even 
use  illustrations  based  on  erroneous  conceptions  of  natural 
facts  and  historical  events. 

A  man  moved  to  speak  by  the  Holy  Spirit  would  not 
exhort  people  to  be  idle  or  heedless  ;  he  would  urge  them 
to  be  industrious  and  prudent :  but  in  enforcing  his  ex- 
hortation to  those  virtues  by  a  reference  to  the  ant,  he 
might  give  proof  that  his  knowledge  of  the  ant  was  not 
perfect, — that  his  ideas  of  its  ways  were  not  in  every 
little  point  correct. 

A  man  full  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  especially  a  man 
who  had  received  of  its  influences  without  measure,  would 


214  NO   ABSOLUTELY   PEKFECT   BOOK. 

be  sure  to  exhort  men  to  be  very  wise  and  very  harmless  ; 
but  he  might  use  a  form  of  words  in  his  exhortation  Avhich 
had  originated  in  the  misconcef)tion  that  serpents  were  wiser 
than  any  other  animals,  and  that  doves  were  more  harm- 
less than  any  other  birds.  Yet  tlie  exhortation  would  be 
good  in  substance ;  and  even  the  form,  being  in  accordance 
with  tlie  views  prevailing  in  his  times,  would  be  unobjec- 
tionable ;  and  both  would  be  consistent  with  the  fullest  in- 
spiration of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

A  great,  good  man,  speaking  under  divine  impulse, 
urging  his  son  in  the  Gospel  to  resist  false  and  immoral 
teachers,  might  say,  '  Now  as  Jannes  and  Jambres  withstood 
Moses,  so  do  these  also  resist  the  truth ;  but  their  folly 
shall  be  made  manifest  unto  all  men,  as  theirs  also  was.' 
"Whether  the  men  who  withstood  Moses  were  really  called 
Jannes  and  Jambres  or  not,  I  do  not  know.  The  Old 
Testament  does  not  say  they  were.  The  probability  is, 
that  Paul  rested  his  illustration  on  a  Jewish  tradition. 
But  as  the  tradition  was  received  as  true  by  his  people, 
his  lesson  was  just  as  good  as  if  it  had  rested  on  some  un- 
questionable fact  stated  in  authentic  history. 

And  so  with  regard  to  illustrations  and  incidental  state- 
ments and  allusions  generally.  Though  they  may  rest  on 
misconceptions,  the  moral  lessons  and  spiritual  revelations 
into  the  service  of  which  they  are  pressed,  may  be  God's 
own  o'Mcles,  and  the  book  in  which  they  appear  may,  as  a 
wliole,  be  given  by  divine  inspiration,  and  be  profitable 
for  teaching,  for  reproof,  for  correction,  and  for  instruction 
in  righteousness,  and  conducive  to  all  the  great  and  desira- 
ble ends  so  dear  fo  God. 

There  is  no  such  thing  as  absolute  perfection  with  regard 
to  books.  There  is  no  authorized  standard,  no  test,  no 
measure  of  absolute  perfection  for  books;  and  if  there  were, 
no  man  could  apply  it.  Of  a  thousand  different  books 
each  may  be  perfect  in  its  way,  yet  none  of  them  be  abso- 
lutely perfect.  Each  may  have  some  great  good  end  in 
view,  and  be  adapted  to  answer  that  end  ;  and  that  is  the 
only  perfection  of  which  a  book  admits.  And  it  is  per- 
fection enough. 

And  this  perfection  the  Bible  has.  It  has  the  best,  the 
highest,  the  most  glorious  objects  in  view,  and  it  is  adapted 


BIBLE    PERFECT    ENOUGH.  215 

to  accomplish  those  objects  ;  and  that  is  sufficient.  They 
that  undertake  to  prove  that  it  has  any  other  perfection, 
will  fail,  and  both  bring  discredit  on  themselves,  and  sus- 
picion on  the  Bible.  The  Bible  may  be  more  grievously 
wronged  by  unwise  praise,  than  by  unjust  censure. 

Absolutely  perfect  books  and  teachers  are  not  necessary 
to  our  instruction  and  welfare.  We  can  learn  all  we  need 
to  know,  and  all  we  need  to  do,  from  books  and  teachers 
that  are  not  perfect.  We  have  no  absolutely  perfect  books 
on  Grammar,  Rhetoric,  or  Logic.  Yet  men  learn  those 
sciences  readily  enough  when  they  study  them  heartily  and 
diligently.  We  have  no  perfect  systems  of  Arithmetic,  Geo- 
metry, or  Algebra ;  of  Geography,  Astronomy,  or  Geo- 
logy ;  of  Anatomy,  Physiology,  or  Chemistry  ;  of  Botany, 
Natural  History,  or  Physical  Geography.  Yet  on  all  those 
subjects  men  gather  an  immense  amount  of  knowledge, 
make  a  multitude  of  new  discoveries,  and  arrive  at  a  won- 
derful degree  of  certainty. 

And  so  with  arts  and  trades.  We  have  no  absolutely 
perfect  teachers  or  books  in  music,  or  painting,  or  sculp- 
ture ;  in  farming,  or  manufactures,  or  trade.  Yet  what 
wonderful  proficients  men  become  in  those  arts  !  We  have 
no  perfect  teachers  of  languages  :  yet  any  man  with  a  taste 
for  the  study  of  them,  may  learn  twenty  or  thirty  of  them 
in  a  life-time.  Even  indifferent  books  and  teachers  will 
enable  a  man  who  is  bent  on  learning,  to  master  the  most 
difficult  lano;uao;e  on  earth. 

A  man  once  asked  me,  '  Which  is  the  best  English 
Grammar  ? '  My  answer  was,  '  The  first  you  come  at. 
A  poor  one  to-day  is  better  than  a  good  one  to-morrow. 
Begin  your  studies  at  once  with  the  grammar  you  have ; 
and  you  will  soon  find  out  which  is  the  best.'  And  so  I  say 
with  regard  to  books  on  other  subjects.  Make  the  best  use 
you  can  of  the  books  you  have,  and  you  will  soon  come 
across  better.  And  when  you  do  come  across  them,  you 
v\^ill  be  all  the  better  prepared  to  profit  by  them,  than 
if  you  were  to  waste  your  time  in  idleness  till  you  can  get 
hold  of  the  best  of  all.  Besides;  the  book  that  is  best  for 
others,  may  not  be  the  best  for  you. 

And  if  a  man  should  ask  me,  '  AVhich  is  the  best  trans- 
lation of  the  Bible  ? '  I  would  say,  '  The  first  you  come 


216  READ  THE   BIBLE  IN  A  EIGHT  SPIRIT. 

at.  Kead  any,  till  you  meet  with  others.  Then  read 
many,  and,  using  your  common  sense,  judge  for  your- 
self which  is  best.  That  which  does  most  to  make  you  a 
good,  a  strong,  a  useful  and  a  happy  man  is  the  best.' 

Some  want  books  and  teachers  that  will  save  them  the 
trouble  of  study.  And  there  are  none  such.  It  would 
be  a  pity  if  there  were.  They  would  do  no  good,  but  harm. 
Nothing  strengthens  and  develops  the  mind  like  labor. 
But  if  you  had  the  best  books  possible  they  would  not  en- 
able you  to  acquire  much  useful  knowledge,  without  close 
study,  and  vigorous  mental  effort. 

I  learned  Greek  with  the  worst  Greek  Grammar  I  ever 
saw ;  but  when  I  had  learned  the  language  tolerably,  I 
found  one  of  the  best  Greek  Grammars  in  the  world,  and 
went  rapidly  through  it,  and  found  that  it  had  little  to  add 
to  the  information  I  had  gained  already  from  the  poorer  one. 

And  it  is  the  same  with  regard  to  books  on  God,  religion 
and  duty.  Books  with  numbers  of  defects, — with  defects 
of  style,  defects  of  arrangement,  and  even  defects  in  matter, 
may  teach  you  many  useful  lessons,  if  you  read  and  study 
them  properly ;  and  the  best  books  on  earth  will  not  teach 
you  much  if  you  read  them  carelessly. 

A  great  deal,  almost  every  thing,  depends  on  the  spirit 
or  the  object  with  which  a  man  reads  a  good  book.  You 
may  read  the  best  books  to  little  profit,  and  you  may  get 
great  good  from  very  inferior  ones. 

The  Bible  is  the  best  religious  and  moral  book  on  earth ; 
it  is,  in  its  most  imperfect  translations,  able  to  make  men 
wise,  and  good,  and  useful,  and  happy  to  the  last  degree, 
if  they  will  read  and  study  it  properly.  But  there  is  not 
a  better  book  on  earth  for  making  a  man  a  fool,  if  he 
comes  to  it  with  a  vain  mind,  a  proud  spirit,  a  fulness 
of  self-conceit,  or  a  wish  to  be  a  prophet.  A  desire  to  be 
a  prater  about  the  millennium,  the  second  coming  of  Christ, 
the  personal  reign,  the  orders  of  angels,  the  ranks  of  de- 
vils, the  secrets  of  God's  counsels,  the  hidden  meaning 
of  the  badgers'  skins,  the  shittim  wood,  the  Urini  and 
Thummim,  the  Cherubim  and  Seraphim,  the  Tcraphim 
and  Anakim,  and  all  the  imaginary  meanings  of  imagi- 
nary types,  and  the  place  where  Paradise  Avas  situated, 
and   tlie  mountain   peak  on  which  the   Ark  rested,  and 


NO   BOOK   AN   INFALLIBLE   GUIDE.  217 

Behemoth,  and  Leviathan,  and  the  spot  at  which  the 
Israelites  entered  the  Red  Sea,  and  the  compass  of  Adam's 
knowledge  before  he  named  the  anicflals,  and  the  fiery 
sword  at  the  gate  of  Paradise,  and  the  controversial  parts 
of  Paul's  epistles,  and  the  mysteries  of  the  Book  of  Reve- 
lation, and  the  spiritual  meaning  of  Solomon's  Song,  and 
the  place  where  Satan  had  his  meeting  with  the  sons 
of  God  in  the  days  of  Job,  and  the  exact  way  in  which 
Job  used  the  potsherd,  when  he  scraped  himself  as  he  sat 
among  the  ashes,  &c.,  &c., — I  say  if  this  is  what  a  man  de- 
sires, the  Bible  will  help  him  to  his  wish,  and  make  him 
the  laughing-stock,  or  the  pity  of  all  sensible  men. 

And  if  he  employs  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  rules  of  Hart- 
well  Home  for  misinterpreting  the  plain  portions  of  the 
Bible,  and  his  one  hundred  and  forty  other  rules  for  dark- 
ening his  mind,  and  confounding  his  soul,  the  Bible  will 
ruin  him  still  quicker.  A  better  book  for  trying  a  man, 
and  for  rewarding  his  honesty,  and  piety,  and  charity,  if  he 
has  those  virtues,  and  for  making  them  ever  more ;  or  for 
punishing  a  man's  vanity,  and  pride,  and  selfishness,  and 
perversity,  if  he  be  the  slave  of  such  passions,  God  could 
hardly  have  given.  And  to  try  and  to  bless  men  are  the 
two  great  objects  of  all  God's  revelations. 

My  opponent  was  fond  of  saying  that  the  Bible  was  an 
infallible  guide.  The  statement  was  not  true  in  any 
strict  and  rigorous  sense  of  the  words.  And  it  was  fool- 
ish for  him  to  make  it  in  an  eager  debate,  for  he  could 
never  prove  it.  And  he  was  not  long  in  finding  this  out. 
A  few  plain  questions  set  him  quite  fast.  The  Bible  is  an 
infallible  guide,  you  say.  "We  ask.  Which  Bible?  The 
common  version  ?  No.  John  Wesley's  version  ?  Ko. 
Dr.  Conquest's?  No.  The  Unitarian  version?  No. 
Any  version  ?  No.  Is  it  some  particular  Greek  or  He- 
brew Bible  then?  No.  Is  it  the  manuscripts?  No. 
But  these  are  all  the  Bibles  we  have. 

The  Bible  is  an  infallible  guide,  you  say.  What  to? 
Uniformity  of  opinion  ?  No.  Uniformity  of  worship  ? 
No.  Uniformity  of  life  ?  No.  Uniformity  of  feeling, 
of  affection,  of  effort?  No.  It  does  not  even  require  uni- 
formity in  those  matters.  It  supposes  diversity.  It  asks 
only  for  sincerity,  honesty,  fidelity.     But  it  is  an  infalli- 


218  NO   BOOK   AN   INFALLIBLE   GUIDE. 

ble  guide  to  all  truth  and  duty,  you  say.  Has  it  guided 
you  to  all  truth  and  duty  ?  No.  Whom  has  it  guided  to 
those  blessed  results  ?     You  cannot  say. 

But  it  is  an  infallible  guide  to  all  that  truth  which  is 
necessary  to  a  man's  salvation,  you  say.  But  there  is  no 
particular  amount  of  truth  that  is  necessary  to  a  man's 
salvation.  The  amount  of  truth  necessary  to  a  man's 
salvation  differs  according  to  his  powers  and  privileges. 
That  which  is  necessary  to  my  salvation  may  not  be  neces- 
sary to  the  salvation  of  a  Pagan.  It  is  sincerity  in  tlie 
search  of  truth,  and  fidelity  in  reducing  it  to  practice, 
which  is  necessary  to  a  man's  salvation,  and  not  the  acqui- 
sition of  some  particular  quantity  of  truth. 

The  Bible  is  an  inflillible  guide.  To  whom  ?  To  the 
Catholics  ?  No.  To  the  Unitarians  ?  No.  To  the  Qua- 
kers ?  No.  To  the  Church  of  England  people  ?  No.  To 
Methodists  and  Calvinists?     No. 

Tiiat  the  Bible  is  a  trusty  guide  enough,  I  have  no 
doubt,  if  we  will  faithfully  and  prayerfully  follow  it ;  but  to 
talk  as  if  it  would  guide  every  one  infallibly  to  exactly 
the  same  views,  or  to  the  fulness  of  all  truth,  is  not  wise. 
It  is  not  warranted  either  by  the  Bible  itself,  or  by  facts. 

Besides,  if  a  book  is  to  guide  a  man  infallibly,  it  must 
be  made  perfectly  plain;  it  must  be  infallibly  interpreted. 
And  where  are  the  infallible  interpreters?  We  know 
of  none  that  even  profess  to  be  such  outside  the  Church 
of  Rome;  and  none  but  themselves  and  their  own  Church 
members  believe  their  professions.  You  do  not  believe 
them.  As  a  rule,  the  claim  of  infallibility  is  taken  as  a 
proof  that  the  man  who  makes  it  is  not  only  fallible,  but 
something  worse. 

But  if  we  had  infallible  interpreters,  they  would  not  be 
abhi  to  keep  us  from  error,  unless  we  had  infallible  hearts 
and  infallible  understandings.  And  we  have  no  such 
thino-s.  If  we  had,  we  should  neither  need  inflillible 
books  nor  infallible  mterpreters. 

That  the  Bible  is  all  that  it  ncech  to  be,  and  all  that  it 
owjht  to  be,  I  am  satisfied ;  but  that  it  is  all  that  some 
of  its  zealous  advocates  say  it  is,vplain  and  unquestionable 
facts  make  it  impossible  for  any  candid,  unbiassed,  and 
well-informed  man  to  believe. 


BIBLE   INSPIRATION, — ITS    NATURE.  219 

We  have  all  an  infallible  guide  M'ithin  us,  if  we  be  true 
Christians.  For  the  Spirit  of  God  dwells  in  the  hearts 
of  all  true  disciples  of  Christ.  But  tE"e  infallible  guide 
does  not  make  us  all  infallible  followers.  The  infallible 
teacher  does  not  make  us  all  infallible  learners.  We  are 
blessed  with  divine  inspiration,  but  we  are  not  converted 
into  machines.  Inspiration  does  not  make  us  absolutely- 
perfect  either  in  knowledge  or  virtue,  still  less  does  it 
make  us  perfect  all  at  once.  We  shall  learn  enough,  and 
we  shall  learn  fast  enough,  if  we  are  faithful ;  but  we  shall 
never  be  perfect  or  infallible  in  our  knowledge  in  this 
world. 

As  the  subject  of  Bible  inspiration  is  one  of  great  im- 
portance, and  as  it  is  at  present  exciting  the  greatest  inter- 
est, it  may  not  be  amiss  here  to  give  a  few  quotations  from 
writers  who  have  been  led  to  see  the  doctrine  in  the  same 
light  as  ourselves.  I  am  unable  to  give  the  names  of  some 
of  the  authors  from  whose  works  I  quote,  but  they  are  all 
connected  with  one  or  other  of  the  great  evangelical  denom- 
inations of  the  day. 

The  following  is  from  "Bases  of  Belief,"  by 
EdM^ard  Miall,  one  of  the  best  books  on  the  truth  and 
divinity  of  Christianity  I  have  had  the  happiness  to  read. 
Mr.  Miall  is  a  Congregational  minister,  editor  of  the 
Nonconformist  Newspaper,  and  Member  of  Parliament. 
As  his  remarks  are  lengthy,  we  are  obliged  to  abridge 
them  in  some  cases. 

*It  is  not  needed,''in  order  to  show  satisfactorily  that 
there  is  a  divine  revelation  in  the  record,  to  prove  that  the 
record  is  itself  divine.  To  disprove  that  revelation,  a 
man  must  do  something  more  than  point  out  marks 
of  imperfection  in  the  Book  containing  it,  such  marks  as 
would  not  be  expected  in  a  book  written  directly  by  the 
hand  of  God.  If  it  could  be  demonstrated  that  the  pen- 
men who  have  given  us  the  life  of  Christ,  were  indebted  to 
no  other  aid  than  that  supplied  by  the  good  mental  and 
moral  qualifications  which  any  others  might  possess,  the 
main  strength  of  Christianity  as  a  communication  of  God's 
mind  and  will,  would  remain  untouched. 

'  The  discrepancies  between  the  statements  of  the  four 
Evangelists, — the  indications  of  individual  or  national  pecu- 


220  BIBLE   INSPIRATION.      ITS   EFFECTS. 

liarities, — the  modes  of  describing  occurrences,  true  because 
well  understood  in  the  locality  of  the  speaker,  but  not 
strictly  true  in  other  i)laces, — all  matters  which  serve  to 
show  that  the  same  objects  have  been  seen  by  different 
persons,  but  from  different  points  of  view,  are  to  be  al- 
lowed for  as  reconcilable  with  a  truthfulness  that  may  be 
iinplicitly  relied  upon.  One  informant  may  have  blundered 
in  geography,  another  may  have  been  mistaken  in  an  histori- 
cal reference,  a  third  may  have  misquoted  or  misapplied 
some  prophetical  allusion,  and  all  may  have  given  ample 
proof  that  they  were  not  free  from  the  influence  of  the 
traditions  generally  received  in  the  places  to  which  they 
belonged ;  but  unless  these  peculiarities  and  infirmities 
show  a  want  of  competency  as  witnesses,  or  a  lack  of  in- 
tegrity, they  may  be  dismissed,  as  having  no  bearing  on 
the  main  point. 

'  The  question  whetli'er  the  Gospel  records  are  free  from 
blemishes  found  to  attach  to  every  other  record,  has  noth- 
ing to  do  with  the  main  issue.  Our  theories  may  require 
them  to  be  free  from  such  harmless  imperfections ;  but  our 
reason  makes  no  such  demand. 

'  The  memoir  of  a  great  man  docs  not  lose  its  use  and 
virtue,  because  written  by  a  biographer  o])cn  to  some  cen- 
sure :  nor  can  the  life  of  Christ  fail  of  its  transcendant  })ur- 
pose,  because  the  writers  were  not  in  all  things  infallible. 

'Appearances  of  harmless  human  imperfections  in  the 
writers' do  not  invalidate  the  sacred  records.  For  instance, 
if  it  should  be  found  that  those  faithful  witnesses  have 
given  their  testimony  in  exceptionable  Greek, — or  that  in 
some  matters,  not  touching  their  main  object,  they  arc  not 
enlightened  above  the  common  standard  of  their  times  and 
station, — ^or  that  they  have  habits  of  thought,  or  speech,  or 
action,  which, though  perfectly  innocent  in  themselves,  show 
that  they  are  not  so  far  advanced  in  science  as  some, — if, 
in  a  word,  it  should  a})]>ear  that  the  historic  writers  of  the 
New  Testament  were  really  men  of  the  age  in  which  they 
lived,  and  men  of  the  country  in  which  they  were  born  and 
educated,  subject  to  the  then  limitations  of  general 
knowledge, — men  of  individual  tendencies,  tastes,  tempera- 
ments, passions,  and  even  prejudices, — wherein  is  the  world 
W'orse  for  this,  and  in  what  respect  could  our  reason  have 


BIBLE   INSPIRATION — MODERN    VIEWS.  221 

wislied  it  otherwise  ?  We  protest,  we  do  not  see.  On  the 
contrary,  we  feel  it  to  be  an  advantage,  that  the  divine 
light  emanating  from  the  life  of  Jesus  Chrisl,  should  reach 
us  through  an  artless  and  thoroughly  human  medium.  It 
is  no  misfortune,  in  our  judgment,  but  quite  the  opposite, 
that  '  we  have  this  treasure  in  earthen  vessels.'  Sucli  traces 
on  the  pages  of  evangelic  history  as  mark  the  writers  for 
men, — honest,  faithful,  competent,  but  yet  verily  and  in-' 
deed  men, — bring  their  narrative  much  more  closely  home 
to  our  sympathies,  and  set  us  upon  a  more  ardent  search 
for  the  spirit  in  its  several  portions,  than  if  the  story  had 
been  written  by  the  faultless  pen  of  some  superior  being.' 

Mr.  Miall  then  refers  to  the  errors  and  discrepancies  in 
the  genealogies  prefixed  to  two  of  the  lives  of  Christ, 
and  says,  '  They  are  accounted  for,  in  our  view,  by  the  hu- 
manity of  the  writers.  We  are  not  bound  to  regard  the 
genealogies  as  infallibly  accurate,  any  more  than  we  are 
bound  to  regard  the  dialect  of  the  writers  as  pure  Greek. 
No  essential  truth  is  affected  by  either,  and  that  is  enough.' 

Mr.  Miall  further  argues  that  intellectual  infallibility 
Avas  not  necessary,  and  was  not  to  be  looked  for,  in  Paul, 
tlie  great  expounder  of  the  Gospel.  And  he  adds,  *  Taking 
the  New  Testament  as  a  whole,  we  are  not  disposed  to  deny, 
that  it  bears  upon  the  face  of  it,  many  indications  that  its 
several  writers  were  not  entirely  exempt  from  mental  im- 
perfection,— but  we  contend  that  the  mental  imperfection 
w'.iich  their  works  exhibit,  is  perfectly  compatible  with 
the  communication  to  men  of  infallible  knowledge  respect- 
ing God,  His  moral  relations  to  us,  His  purposes  with  re- 
gard to  us,  and  the  religious  duties  which  these  things 
enforce  on  all  who  would  attain  eternal  life.  And  if  this 
be  true,  the  record  satisfies  the  spiritual  need  of  man  in 
its  fullest  extent.' 

We  have  given  Mr.  Miall's  views  at  greater  length,  be- 
cause he  occupies  so  high  a  position,  not  only  in  one  of  the 
largest  religious  denominations  in  England,  but  in  the 
country  generally,  and  because  we  have  never  seen  any  pro- 
test against  his  views  from  any  writer  of  influence,  in  any 
branch  of  the  Church  of  Christ.  Such  protests  may  have 
appeared,  but  we  have  never  met  with  any.  We  may  add, 
that  while  Mr.  Miall  gives  up  the  idea  of  infallibility,  he 


222        MODERN   DIVINES   ON     BIBLE     INSPIRATION. 

holds  that  the  writers  of  the  NewTestaraent  history  were  under 
divine  guidnn'ce  in  composing  their  several  memoirs  of  Christ. 

Mr.  Miall's  views  on  the  Old  Testament  writings  we 
may  have  occasion  to  notice  further  on. 

The  Rev.  Dr.  Parker,  author  of  Ecce  Deus,  has  some 
remarks  of  a  character  somewhat  similar  to  those  of  Mr. 
Miall,  but  we  have  not  his  works  at  hand. 

Our  next  quotation  is  from  a  lecture  on  Science  and 
Revelation,  by  the  very  reverend  R.  Payne  Smith,  D.  D., 
Dean  of  Canterbury.  Tiie  lecture  was  delivered  at  the  re- 
quest of  the  Christian  Evidence  Society,  London,  and  is 
published  by  that  society,  in  their  volume,  entitled  Modern 
Skepticism. 

'  Revelation  has  nothing  to  do  with  our  physical  state. 
Reason  is  quite  sufficient  to  teach  us  all  those  sanitary  laws 
by  which  our  bodies  will  be  maintained  in  healthful  vigor. 
"Whatever  we  can  attain  by  our  mental  powers,  we  are  to 
attain  by  them.  Physical  and  metaphysical  science  alike 
lie  remote  from  the  object  matter  of  revelation.  The  Bible 
never  gives  us  any  scientific  knowledge  in  a  scientific  way. 
If  it  did,  it  would  be  leaving  its  own  proper  domain. 
When  it  seems  to  give  us  any  such  knowledge,  as  in  the 
first  chapter  of  Genesis,  what  it  says. has  always  reference  to 
man.  The  first  chapter  of  Genesis  does  not  tell  us  how 
the  earth  was  formed  absolutely,  but  how  it  was  prepared 
and  fitted  for  man.  Look  at  the  work  of  the  fourth  day. 
Does  any  man  suppose  that  the  stars  were  set  in  the  ex- 
panse of  heaven  absolutely  that  men  might  know  what 
time  of  the  year  it  was  ?  They  did  render  men  this  service, 
but  this  was  not  their  great  use.  As  the  Bible  speaks  to 
all  people,  at  all  times,  it  must  use  popular  language.' 

This  writer,  like  many  others  when  tliey  approach  this 
subject,  spealcs  timidly,  and  in  consequence  somewhat 
vaguely  and  obscurely;  but  his  meaning  is,  that  we  must 
expect  the  Bible,  on  scientific  subjects,  to  speak,  not  accord- 
ing to  science,  but  according  to  the  prevailing  ideas  of  their 
times  on  scientific  subjects;  and  that  we  are  to  regard  the 
Bible  as  our  teacher,  not  on  every  subject  to  which  it  may 
allude,  or  on  which  it  may  speak,  but  only  on  matters  of  re- 
ligious truth  and  duty. 

The  followinj]:  Is  from  the  Rev.  H.  W.  Beecher. 


TRUE   DOCTRINE   OF   BIBLE    INSPIRATION.  223 

'Matthew  says,  that  Jesus  dwelt  in  Nazareth;  that  it 
might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spokeu  by  the  prophets,  He 
shall  be  called  a  Nazarene.  No  such  liftg  has  ever  been 
found  in  the  prophets. 

'  Infinite  ingenuity  of  learning  has  been  brought  to  bear 
upon  this  difficulty,  without  in  the  slightest  degree  solving 

*  What  would  happen  if  it  should  be  said  that  Matthew 
recorded  the  current  impression  of  his  time  in  attril)uting 
this  declaration  to  the  Old  Testament  Prophets  ?  Would 
a  mere  error  of  reference  invalidate  the  trustworthiness 
of  the  evangelist  ?  We  lean  our  whole  weight  [in  other 
matters]  upon  men  who  are  fallible.  Mast  a  record  be 
totally  infallible  before  it  can  be  trusted  at  all  ?  Naviga- 
tors trust  ship,  cargo,  and  the  lives  of  all  on  board,  to 
calculations  based  on  tables  of  logarithms,  knowing  that 
there  never  was  a  set  [of  logarithms]  computed,,  without 
machinery,  that  had  not  some  error  in  it.  The  supposi- 
tion, that  to  admit  that  there  are  immaterial  and' inci- 
dental mistakes  in  Sacred  Writ  Avould  break  the  confi- 
dence of  nien  in  it,  is  contradicted  by  the  uniform  experi- 
ence of  life,  and  by  the  whole  procedure  of  society. 

'  On  the  contrary,  the  shifts  and  ingenuities  to  which 
critics  are  obliged  to  resort,  either  blunt  the  sense  of  truth, 
or  disgust  men  with  the  special  pleading  of  critics,  and' 
tend  powerfully  to  general  unbelief. 

'The  theory  of  inspiration  must  be  founded  upon  the 
grounds  on  which  the  Scriptures  themselves  found  it.  "All 
Scripture  is  given  by  inspiration  of  God,  and  is  profitable 
for  doctrine,  for  reproof,  for  correction,  for  instruction  in 
righteousness;    that   the    man    of    God    may    be    perfect, 
thoroughly  furnished  unto  all  good  works."  (2Tim.  3: 1 6, 17.) 
'  Under  this  declaration,  no  more  can  be  claimed  for  the 
doctrine  of  inspiration  than  that  there  shall  have  been  such 
an  influence  exerted  upon  the  formation  of  the  record,  that 
It  shall  be  the  truth  respecting  God,  and  no  falsity;'  that 
It  shall  so  expound   the  duty  of  man  under  God's  moral 
government,  as  to  secure,  in  all   who  will,  a  true  holiness ; 
that  It  shall  contain  no  errors  which  can  affect  the. essential 
truths  taught,  or  which  shall  cloud  the  reason  or  sully  the 
moral  sense. 


224      BIBLE   DOCTRINE   ON    ITS   OWN    INSPIRATION. 

'  But  it  is  not  right  or  prudent  to  infer  from  the  Biblical 
statement  of  inspiration,  that  it  makes  provision  for  the 
very  words  and  sentences ;  that  it  shall  raise  the  inspired 
penmen  above  the  possibility  of  literary  inaccuracy,  or 
minor  or  immaterial  mistakes.  It  is  enough  if  the  Bible 
be  a  sure  and  sufficient  guide  to  spiritual  morality  and  ra- 
tional piety.  To  erect  for  it  a  claim  to  absolute  literary 
infallibility,  or  to  infallibility  in  things  not  directly  per- 
taining to'  faith,  is  to  weaken  its  real  authority,  and  to 
turn  it  aside  from  its  avowed  purpose.  The  theory  of  ver- 
bal inspiration  brings  a  strain  upon  the  Word  of  God 
which  it  cannot  bear.  If  rigorously  pressed,  it  tends  power- 
fully to  bigotry  on  the  one  side,  and  to  infallibility  on  the 
other. 

'■  The  inspiration  of  holy  men  is  to  be  construed,  as  we 
construe  the  doctrine  of  an  over-ruling  and  special  Provi- 
dence; of  the  divine  supervision  and  guidance  of  the 
church ;  of  the  faithfulness  of  God  in  answering  prayer. 
The  truth  of  these  doctrines  is  not  inconsistent  with  the 
existence  of  a  thousand  evils,  mischiefs,  and  mistakes,  and 
with  the  occurrence  of  wanderings  long  and  almost  fatal. 
Yet  the  general  supervision  of  a  Divine  Providence  is  ra- 
tional. We  might  expect  that  there  would  be  an  analogy 
between  God's  care  and  education  of  the  race,  and  His  care 
of  the  Bible  in  its  formation. 

'  Around  the  central  certainty  of  saving  truth  are  Avrapped 
the  swaddling-clothes  of  human  language.  Neither  the 
condition  of  the  human  understanding,  nor  the  nature 
of  human  speech,  which  is  the  vehicle  of  thought,  admits 
of  more  than  a  fragmentary  and  partial  ])resentation 
of  truth.  "  For  we  know  in  part,  and  we  prophesy  in 
part."  (1  Cor.  xiii.  9.)  Still  less  are  we  then  to  expect 
that  there  will  be  perfection  in  this  vehicle.  And  inci- 
dental errors,  which  do  not  reach  the  substance  of  truth 
and  dutv,  which  touch  only  contingent  and  external  ele- 
ments, are  not  to  be  regarded  as  inconsistent  with  the  foct 
that  the  Scriptures  were  inspired  of  God.  Nor  will  our 
reverence  for  tlie  Scriptures  be  impaired  if,  in  such  cases, 
it  be  frankly  said,  '  There  is  an  insoluble  difficulty.'  Such 
a  course  is  far  less  dangerous  to  the  moral  sense  than  that 
pernicious  ingenuity  which,  assuming  that  there  can  be  no 


INSPIRATION   NOT   ABSOLUTE   PERFECTION.  225 

literal  errors  in  Scripture,  resorts  to  subtle  arts  of  criticism, 
improbabilities  of  statement,  and  violence  of  construction, 
such  as,  if  made  use  of  in  the  intercourse  of  mgu  in  daily  life, 
would  break  up  society  and  destroy  all  faith  of  man  in  man. 

'  We  dwell  at  length  on  this  topic  now,  that  we  may  not 
be  obliged  to  recur  to  it  when,  as  will  be  the  case,  other 
instances  arise  in  which  there  is  no  solution  of  unim- 
portant, though  real,  literary  difficulties. 

'  There  are  a  multitude  of  minute,  and  on  the  whole,  as 
respects  the  substance  of  truth,  not  important  questions 
and  topics,  which,  like  a  fastened  door,  refuse  to  be  opened 
by  any  key  which  learning  has  brought  to  them.  It  is 
better  to  let  them  stand  closed  than,  like  impatient  mas- 
tiffs, after  long  barking  in  vain,  to  lie  whining  at  the  door, 
unable  to  enter,  and  unwilling  to  go  away.  Life  of  Jesus, 
pp.  77—81. 

The  Rev.  G.  Rawlinson,  in  an  able  lecture  in  defence 
of  the  Bible,  published  by  the  Christian  Evidence 
Society  of  London,  acknowledges  that  there  are  matters 
of  uncertainty  in  some  parts  of  the  Old  Testament  history, 
and  says,  '  The  time  alloAved  by  the  common  version 
of  the  Bible  for  all  the  events  which  took  place  from 
the  days  of  Noah,  to  the  birth  of  Christ,  and  for  all 
the  changes  by  which  the  various  races  of  men  were 
formed,  by  which  civilization  and  the  arts  were  developed, 
etc.,  is  less  than  2,600  years.  Now  this  is  quite  insufficient. 
How  is  this  difficulty  to  be  met  ?  We  answer ;  a  special 
uncertainty  attaches  to  the  numbers  in  this  case.  They 
are  given  differently  in  the  different  ancient  versions. 
The  Samaritan  version  extends  the  time  650  years.  The 
Septuagiut  extends  it  eight  or  nine  hundred  years.  If  more 
time  still  be  thought  wanting  for  the  development  of  gov- 
ernment, art,  science,  language,  diversities  of  races,  etc.,  I 
should  not  be  afraid  to  grant  that  the  original  record 
of  Scripture  on  this  point  may  have  been  lost,  and  that 
the  true  chronology  cannot  now  be  ascertained.  Nothing 
in  ancient  manuscripts  is  so  liable  to  corruption  as  the  num- 
bers* The  original  mode  of  writing  them  was  by  signs 
not  very  different  from  one  another,  and  thus  it  happens 
that  in  almost  all  ancient  works,  the  numbers  are  found  to 
be  deserving  of  very  little  reliance.' 
15 


226  NOTHING   ABSOLUTELY   PERFECT. 

But  the  errors  and  uncertainty  with  regard  to  numbers 
amount  to  nothing.  They  do  not  affect  the  Bible  as  the 
great  religious  instructor  of  the  world. 

The  sun  has  its  spots,  dark  ones  and  large  ones  too  ;  and 
the  face  of  the  moon  is  not  all  of  equal  brightness  ;  but 
are  the  sun  and  the  moonless  useful  on  that  account?  Do 
they  not  answer  the  ends  for  which  they  were  made,  and 
are  not  those  ends  the  most  important  and  desirable 
imaginable?  Cavillers  might  say,  if  the  sun  and  moon 
were  made  to  be  lights  of  the  earth,  why  are  they  not  all 
light,  and  why  is  not  their  light  of  the  greatest  brilliancy 
possible  ?  But  we  too  have  a  right  to  ask.  Do  they  not 
give  us  light  enough  ?  And  is  not  their  light  as  brilliant 
as  is  desirable  ?  Will  the  caviller  prove  that  the  sun  and 
moon  would  be  greater  blessings  if  their  light  were  more 
intense,  or  more  abundant  ?  Men  may  have  too  much 
light  as  well  as  too  little.  If  light  exceeds  a  certain  degree 
of  intensity,  it  dazzles  and  blinds  instead  of  enlightening. 
It  is  M-ell  to  have  a  little  warmth,  but  if  the  heat  be  in- 
creased beyond  a  certain  point,  it  burns  and  consumes,  in- 
stead of  comforting  and  cheering. 

The  disposition  of  the  caviller  is  anything  but  enviable, 
and  if  God  were  to  take  him  at  his  word,  his  lot  would  be 
anything  but  comfortable.  Happy  are  they  who  accept 
God's  gifts  as  He  presents  them,  with  thankfulness,  and 
use  them  in  His  service  faithfully,  rejoicing  and  trusting 
in  His  infinite  wisdom  and  love. 

What  a  man  wants  in  a  book  are  instruction,  impulse, 
strength,  correction,  regeneration,  consolation,  lessons  fit  to 
furnish  him  to  every  good  work,  something  to  give  plea- 
sure, supply  exercise  for  his  intellect,  conscience,  affections : 
and  the  Bible  is  all. 

If  God  may  employ  an  imperfect  and  fallible  man  to 
preach  for  him,  allowing  a  portion  of  his  imperfections  to 
mingle  with  his  message,  why  might  He  not  employ  an 
imperfect  and  fallible  man  to  write  for  Him,  allowing  a 
portion  of  his  imperfections  to  mingle  with  his  wri- 
ting ? 

The  following  is  from  the  Bishop  of  London. 

'  The  vindication  of  the  sui)ernatural  and  authoritative 
character  of  the  Bible  has  too  often  been  embarrassed  by 


BIBLE   A   EELIGIOUS   AND   MORAL   GUIDE.  227 

speculative  theories  not  authorized  by  the  statements  of  the 
Bible  itself.' 

'  It  is  no  reply  to  the  essential  claims  of  the  Bible  to  be 
a  supernatural  revelation  from  God,  to  show  that  certain 
speculative  theories  concerning  the  manner  and  degree 
of  its  inspiration  are  untenable.' 

From  whose  works  the  following  quotation  is  made,  we 
do  not  remember. 

'  The  watchword  of  the  Reformation  was, '  The  sufficiency 
of  the  Scriptures  for  salvation.' 

'  Definite  theories  of  inspiration  were  seldom  propounded 
till  of  late  years. 

*  The  Bible  is  a  revelation  of  spiritual  truth  communi- 
cated chiefly  in  illustrations  and  figurative  language,  and 
making  use  of  the  history,  chronology,  and  other  sciences 
of  the  age,  as  vehicles  or  helps.  This  principle  will  ex- 
plain those  seeming  contradictions  [to  science]  which  result 
from  the  use  of  popular  language,  as  when  the  sun  and 
moon  are  said  to  stand  still,  or  when  the  *sun  is  said  to  go 
from  one  end  of  the  heaven  to  the  other,  etc.  It  will  also 
account  for  many  actual  errors  in  science,  chronology,  and 
history,  should  such  be  found  to  exist.  The  Scriptures 
were  not  intended  to  teach  men  these  things,  but  to  reveal 
what  relates  to  our  connection  with  moral  law,  and  the 
spiritual  world,  and  our  salvation.  In  teaching  these 
things,  the  writers  availed  themselves  of  the  popular  lan- 
guage, and  the  current  science  and  literature  of  the  age  in 
which  they  lived.  As  in  the  present  day  a  man  may  be 
well  instructed  in  Christian  doctrine,  and  have  the  unction 
from  the  Holy  One,  while  ignorant  of  the  teachings 
of  modern  science,  so  likewise  it  was  possible  to  those  who 
first  received  religious  truth  and  were  co-mmissioned  to 
declare  it.  The  presence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  no  more  pre- 
served men  from  errors  in  science  in  the  one  case  than  in 
the  other.  One  may  as  well  seek  to  study  surveying  in  a 
biography  of  Washington,  as  the  details  of  geology  or 
chronology  in  Genesis. 

'  The  proper  test  to  apply  to  the  Gospels  is,  whether  each 
gives  us  a  picture  of  the  life  and  ministry  of  Jesus  that  is 
self-consistent  and  consistent  with  the  others ;  such  as 
would  be  suitable  to  the  use  of  believers. 


228   LITTLE   ERROKS  NO  DISPROOF   OF   INSPIRATION. 

'  Many  of  the  apparent  contradictions  of  the  Bible  may 
be  explained  by  the  mistakes  of  transcribers,  or  in  some 
other  way  equally  natural ;  but,  as  the  Bishop  of  London 
h*is  well  remarked,  '  When  laborious  ingenuity  has  exerted 
itself  to  collect  a  whole  store  of  such  difficulties,  supposing 
them  to  be  real,  what  on  earth  does  it  signify  ?  They  may 
be  left  quietly  to  float  away  without  our  being  able  to 
solve  them,  if  we  bear  in  mind  the  acknowledged  fact,  that 
there  is  a  human  element  in  the  Bible.' 

'  What  if  many  of  the  numbers  given  in  Exodus 
should,  as  Bishop  Colenso  asserts,  be  inaccurate?  What 
is  to  be  gained  by  assertions  or  denials  relative  to  matters 
which  have  for  ever  passed  out  of  the  reach  of  our  verifi- 
cation ?  And  what  if,  here  and  there,  a  law  should  seem 
to  us  strange  and  unaccountable  ;  an  event  difficult  to  com- 
prehend ;  a  statement  to  involve  an  apparent  contra- 
diction ?  What  has  all  this  to  do  with  the  essential  value 
of  the  Book.  Absolutely  nothing,  unless  thereby  its 
[honesty]  truthfulness  can  be  set  aside. 

'  If  error  were  cunningly  interspersed  with  truth  in  the 
Bible,  the  case  would  be  different.  But  it  is  not  so.  The 
Book,  as  a  whole,  and  as  it  stands,  is  wholesome  and  use- 
ful ;  each  portion  of  it  has  its  proper  place,  and  is  ade- 
quate to  fulfil  its  appointed  end.  But  everything  in  the 
Book  does  not  take  hold  alike  on  the  heart  and  conscience. 
It  may  be  very  interesting,  as  indeed  it  is,  to  trace  on  the 
map  the  various  journeyings  of  St.  Paul,  or  the  wanderings 
of  the  children  of  Israel  in  the  wilderness;  to  note  a  hun- 
dred designed  coincidences,  etc.  Yet  all  this  may  be  done 
without  the  slightest  moral  or  spiritual  ])enefit  to  the  man 
who  does  it.  And,  of  course,  all  this  may  be  left  un- 
done by  others  without  the  slightest  spiritual  loss  or  dis- 
advantage.' 

The  following  may  be  our  own. 

The  great  thing  is  to  use  the  Scriptures  as  a  means 
of  instruction  in  religious  truth  and  Christian  duty,  and 
as  a  means  of  improvement  in  all  moral  excellence  and 
Christian  usefulness. 

Set  the  doctrine  of  Scripture  inspiration  too  high,  and 
people,  finding  that  the  Scriptures  do  not  come  up  to  it, 
will  conclude  that  the  doctrine  is  false, — that  the  Scrip- 


HUMAN   IMPERFECTIONS   IN    THE     BIBLE.  229 

tures  are  not  inspired, — that  they  do  not  differ  from  other 
books, — that  divine  revelation  is  a  fiction, — that  religion  is 
a  delusion, — and  that  the  true  philosophy  of  life  and 
of  the  universe  is  infidelity.  And  the  Scriptures  do  not 
come  up  to  the  doctrine  of  inspiration  held  by  many.  It 
is  impossible  they  should.  No  book  written  in  human 
language  can  come  up  to  it.  What  they  say  an  inspired 
book  must  be^  no  book  on  earth  ever  was,  and  no  book  ever 
will  be.  And  infidels  see  it,  and  are  confirmed  in  their 
infidelity.  And  others  see  it  and  become  infidels.  And 
Christians  argue  with  them  and  are  overcome.  And  others 
are  perplexed  and  bewildered,  and  obliged  to  close  their 
eyes  to  facts,  and  though  they  cling  to  their  belief,  they 
are  troubled  with  fears  and  misgivings  as  long  as  they  live. 

If  men  would  be  strong  in  the  faith,  and  strong  in  its 
defence,  they  should  accept  nothing  as  part  of  their  creed 
but  what  is  strictly  true. 

There  are  passages  which  speak  of  the  sun  smiting  men 
by  day,  and  there  is  one  at  least  which  speaks  of  the  moon 
smiting  men  by  night,  and  both,  for  any  thing  I  know, 
may  be  literally  true.  But  suppose  it  were  proved  that 
neither  the  sun  nor  the  moon  ever  smites  men,  would  my 
faith  in  Christianity,  or  in  the  divine  inspiration  of  the 
Bible,  be  shaken  thereby?  Not  at  all.  Nor  would  it  de- 
stroy or  weaken  the  effect  of  the  pasages  on  my  mind  in 
which  those  allusions  to  the  sun  and  moon  occur.  I 
should  still  believe  in  the  substantial  truth  of  the  passages, 
namely,  that,  day  and  night,  the  good  man  is  secure  under 
the  protection  of  God. 

A  man  says  that  he  has  lately  been  under  'disastrous 
influences,'  Literally,  the  words  disastrous  influences 
mean  the  influences  of  unfriendly  stars.  But  there  arc  no 
unfriendly  stars.  Then  why  does  he  use  such  an  expres- 
sion? Because,  though  it  does  not  now  in  its  current 
meaning  refer  to  the  stars  at  all,  it  means  calamitous,  un- 
favorable, influences.  I  do  not  believe  that  the  sun  like 
a  strong  man  runs  a  race  :  I  believe  its  motion  is  only  ap- 
parent,— that  the  real  motion  is  in  the  earth.  But  do 
I  therefore  question  the  divine  inspiration  of  the  Bible 
which  uses  that  expression  ?  Not  at  all ;  for  the  words  are 
substantially  true.     And  so  in  a  hundred  other  cases. 


230  STAND  SIDE  BY  SIDE  WITH  DIVINE  REVELATION. 

And  so  in  passages  of  other  kinds.  It  does  not  matter 
to  me  whether  the  account  of  creation  in  Genesis  answers 
literally  to  the  real  processes  revealed  by  Geology,  or 
whether  the  account  of  the  flood  answers  exactly  to  past 
facts.  Both  accounts  are  perfect  as  lessons  of  divine  truth 
and  duty,  and  that  is  enough. 

Those  who  undertake  to  prove  that  every  passage  of  the 
Bible  is  literally  true,  must  fail.  If  they  were  all  literally 
true,  they  would  never  have  done.  There  are  more  diffi- 
cult passages,  and  more  apparent  little  contradictions,  than 
any  man  could  go  through  in  a  life-time.  I  would  no  more 
undertake  such  a  task  than  I  would  undertake  to  prove 
that  every  leaf,  and  every  flower,  and  every  seed,  of  every 
plant  on  earth  is  perfect,  and  that  each  is  exactly  like  its 
fellows.  God's  honor  and  man's  welfare  are  as  much  con- 
cerned in  the  one  as  in  the  other.  They  are  concerned  in 
neither.  The  leaves,  the  flowers,  and  the  seeds  of  i:)lants  are 
right  enough, — they  are  as  perfect  as  they  need  to  be, — and 
I  ask  no  more.  And  the  Bible  is  as  perfect  as  it  needs  to 
be,  and  I  am  satisfied. 

The  following  is  abridged  from  a  work  entitled  Chris- 
tianity AND  OUR  Era,  by  the  Rev.  G.  Gilfillan  of  Scotland. 

Mr.  Gilfillan  speaks  of  it  as  a  'Generally  admitted  fact,  that 
there  is  a  human,  as  well  as  a  divine  element  in  Scripture,' 
and  adds,  '  that  this  should  modify  our  judgment  in  con- 
sidering perplexing  discrepancies  and  minor  objections. 
There  are  spots  in  the  sun ;  there  are  bogs  on  the  earth  ;  and 
why  should  the  perplexities  in  a  book,  which  is  a  multi- 
farious collection  of  poetico-theological  and  historical  tracts, 
written  in  Yarious  ages,  and  subject,  in  their  history,  to 
njany  human  vicissitudes,  bewilder  and  appal  us  ?  The 
candid  inquirer  Avill  be  satisfied  if,  from  the  unity  of  spirit, 
the  truth  and  simplicity  of  manner,  the  majesty  of  thought, 
the  heavenlincss  of  tone,  and  the  various  collateral  and  ex- 
ternal proofs,  he  gathers  a  general  inspiration  in  the  Bible, 
and  the  general  truth  of  Christianity.  Jjogical  strictness, 
perfect  historic  accuracy,  systematic  arrangement,  etc., 
could  not  be  expected  in  a  book  of  intuitions  and  bursts 
of  inspiration  ;  the  authors  of  which  seemed  often  the  child- 
like organs  of  the  power  within.  It  seemed  enough  that 
there  should  be  no  wilful  mis-statements,  and  no  errors  but 


EATIONAL  DEFINITIONS  OF  BIBLE  INSPIRATION.    231 

those  arising  from  the  inevitable  conditions  to  which  all 
writings  are  liable.  The  skeptic  who  proceeds  to  peruse 
the  Bible,  expecting  it  everywhere  to  be  conformable  to  the 
highest  ideal  standard — that  there  shall  be  nothing  to  per- 
plex his  understanding,  to  try  his  belief,  or  to  offend  his 
taste,  will  be  disappointed,  and  will  either  give  up  his  task, 
or  go  on  in  weariness  and  hesitation.  On  the  other  hand, 
if  he  be  told  to  prepare  for  historical  discrepancies,  for 
staggering  statements,  for  phrases  more  plain  than  elegant, 
and  for  sentences  of  inscrutable  darkness,  he  will  be  far 
more  likely  to  come  to  a  satisfactory  conclusion.  And  the 
apparent  dark  spots  will  only  serve  to  increase  the  surround- 
ing splendor.  We  therefore  cry  to  the  skeptic  who  pur- 
poses to  explore  the  region  of  revelation ;  '  We  promise  you 
no  pavement  of  gold ;  you  will  find  your  path  an  Alpine 
road,  steep,  rugged,  with  profound  chasms  below,  and  giddy 
precipices  above,  and  thick  mists  often  closing  in  around,  but 
rewarding  you  by  prospects  of  ineffable  loveliness,  by  gleams 
of  far-revealing  light,  and  delighting  you  with  a  thousand 
unearthly  pleasures.  Try  this  pass,  with  a  sincere  desire  to 
come  at  truth,  and  with  hope  and  courage  in  your  hearts, 
and  you  will  be  richly  rewarded,  and  the  toils  of  the 
ascent  will  seem  to  you  afterwards  only  a  portion  of  your 
triumph.' 

One  writer  gives  the  following  definition  of  inspiration. 
'  A  supernatural,  divine  influence  on  the  sacred  writers,  by 
which  they  were  qualified  to  communicate  moral  and  reli- 
gious truth  with  authority.' 

This  is  tolerable. 

Another  writer  says,  'It  is  a  miraculous  influence,  by 
Mdiich  men  are  enabled  to  receive  and  communicate  divine 
truth.' 

This  too  is  tolerable,  notwithstanding  the  word  miracu- 
lous. 

Another  writer  says,  '  There  has  been  a  great  diversity 
of  opinions  among  the  best  men  of  all  ages,  as  to  the  na- 
ture and  extent  of  Bible  inspiration.' 

He  might  have  added,  that  these  opinions  have  gener- 
ally been  nothing  more  than  opinions, — mere  fancies,  the- 
ories, framed  without  regard  to  tacts. 

Another  writer  says,  ^  It  should  be  remembered,  that 


232  WRITERS   AFRAID  TO   SPEAK   OUT   HERE. 

the  inspiration  which  breathes  through  the  Book  is  not 
of  a  scientific,  critical,  or  historical  character,  but  exclu- 
sively religious.' 

He  means,  that  while  inspiration  makes  the  Bible  all 
that  is  desirable  as  a  teacher  on  religious  matters,  it  does 
not,  on  other  subjects,  raise  it  above  the  views  of  the  ages 
and  places  in  which  it  was  written.  For  he  adds,  '  The  sa- 
cred record  is  not  in  every  respect  faultless.  It  is  not  free 
from  literary,  typographical,  and  other  defects.  Nature 
herself,  where  no  one  can  deny  the  finger  of  God,  has  im- 
perfections. The  Book  presents  the  same  characteristics  as 
the  best  and  highest  of  God's  other  gifts,  namely,  not  the 
outward  symmetry  of  a  finite  and  mechanical  perfection, 
but  the  inward,  elastic,  and  reproductive  power  of  a  divine 
life  !' 

The  meaning  of  this  latter  vague  and  wordy  sentence 
seems  to  be,  that  the  inspiration  of  the  Bible  is  such  as  to 
make  it  a  powerful  means  of  producing  spiritual  life, — real 
religion  ;  but  not  such  as  to  preserve  it  from  little  ordinary 
human  errors  and  imperfections. 

This  writer  represents  Dr.  Stowe  as  saying,  ^  Inspiration, 
according  to  the  Bible,  is  just  that  measure  of  extraordinary 
Divine  influence  afforded  to  the  sacred  speakers  and  wri- 
ters, which  was  necessary  to  secure  the  purpose  intended, 
and  no  more.' 

This  too  we  can  accept.  It  does  not  authorize  us  to 
expect  of  the  Bible,  or  require  us  to  prove  with  regard  to 
it,  any  thing  more,  than  that  it  is  adapted  to  be  the  reli- 
gious and  moral  instructor  of  mankind. 

This  same  writer  represents  Dr.  Robinson  as  saying, 
*  AYhenever,  and  as  far  as,  divine  assistance  was  necessary, 
it  was  always  afforded.'     This  too  is  tolerable. 

One  writer  says,  '  Divine  inspiration  cannot  be  claimed 
for  the  transcribers  or  translators  of  the  original  Scriptures.' 

We  think  it  can.  We  see  no  reason  to  doubt,  but  that 
many  of  the  transcribers  and  translators  of  the  Scriptures 
were  as  much  under  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit, — the 
spirit  of  love,  and  truth,  and  all  goodness, — as  the  original 
writers.  Our  impression  is,  that  the  common  version  is  as 
truly  the  work  of  divine  inspiration,  as  any  book  on  earth. 

One  writer  says,  *  The  language  of  the  whole  Bible  is 


CAUSE   OF  THEIR   FEAES.  233 

that  of  appearances.  In  drawing  illustrations  from  nature, 
the  writers  could  not  have  been  understood,  unless  they 
had  used  figures  and  forms  of  speech  based  on  nature  as 
popularly"  understood.  Hence  the  heavenly  bodies  are 
spoken  of  as  revolving  round  the  earth,  the  ant  as  storing 
up  food  in  summer,  and  the  earth  as  being  immovable,  all 
of  which  are  now  known  to  be  contrary  to  [strict]  truth.' 

This  writer,  like  some  others,  feeling  as  if  he  had  gone 
too  far  in  uttering  words  so  true,  contradicts  them  a  few 
pages  after,  and  makes  a  number  of  statements  which  re- 
mind one  of  what  the  Apostle  says,  about  handling  the 
word  of  God  deceitfully.  One  would  be  tempted  to  charge 
him  with  '  cunning  craftiness,'  only  his  craft  is  not  very 
cunning.  When  religious  teachers  act  so  unfaithfully, 
they  have  no  right  to  complain  if  people  lose  all  confidence 
in  their  honesty. 

We  grant,  however,  that  the  temptation  to  keep  back 
the  truth  on  this  point  is  very  strong,  and  we  must  not  be 
hard  on  the  timid  ones.  It  is  not  always  a  fear  of  personal 
loss  or  suffering  that  keeps  men  from  speaking  freely  on 
religious  subjects,  but  a  dread  of  lessening  their  usefulness, 
of  hurting  the  minds  of  good  though  mistaken  people,  or 
of  disturbing  and  injuring  the  Church. 

But  it  is  no  use  trying  to  cheat  unbelievers.  You  can- 
not do  it.  They  will  find  you  out,  and  be  all  the  more 
suspicious  and  skeptical  in  consequence.  We  must  deal 
with  them  honestly  ;  tell  them  nothing  but  what  is  true, 
and  use  no  arguments  but  what  are  sound  and  unanswer- 
able. Advocates  of  Christianity  have  made  numberless 
unbelievers  by  teaching  erroneous  doctrines,  and  by  using 
weak  and  vicious  arguments.  The  Christian  should  so 
speak  and  act,  that  it  shall  be  impossible  for  any  one  ever 
to  find  him  in  the  wrong. 

The  following  is  probably  our  own. 

The  historical  difficulties  of  the  Bible  amount  to  little. 
They  do  not  affect  its  scope  and  tendency,  as  a  moral  and 
spiritual  teacher.  Nor  are  they  inconsistent  with  the  doc- 
trine that  the  Scriptures  were  given  by  inspiration  of  God, 
as  that  doctrine  is  presented  in  the  Scriptures  themselves. 
They  may  be  inconsistent  with  the  views  of  Scripture  in- 
spiration taught  by  certain  Theologians ;  but  all  we  have 


234   WHAT  INSPIRATION  AUTHORIZES  ME  TO  EXPECT, 

to  do  is  to  set  the  views  of  these  Theologians  aside,  and 
content  ourselves  with   the  simple  teachings  of  Scripture. 

Now  the  doctrine  of  Scripture  inspiration  as  taught  by 
the  Scriptures  themselves,  gives  me  no  authority  to  expect 
the  Scriptures  to  be  free  from  historical  and  scientific  er- 
rors, or  from  any  of  those  so-called  imperfections  which  are 
inseparable  from  human  language  or  from  human  nature. 
It  authorizes  me  to  expect  that  the  Scriptures  shall  aim  at 
my  moral  and  spiritual  instruction  and  salvation,  and  that 
they  shall  be  adapted  to  answer  that  great  end.  It  authori- 
zes me  to  expect  that  the  body  and  substance  of  the  Book 
shall  be  true  and  good,  and  that  a  spirit  of  wisdom  and 
purity  and  love  shall  pervade  the  Book,  giving  it  a  rous- 
ing and  a  sanctifying  power.  It  authorizes  me  to  expect 
in  it  all  that  is  necessary  to  bring  me  into  harmony  and 
fellowship  with  Christ,  to  fill  me  with  His  spirit,  to  change 
me  into  His  likeness,  to  enable  me  to  live  as  He  lived,  and  to 
labor  as  He  labored.  It  authorizes  me  to  expect  in  the  Bi- 
ble all  that  is  necessary  to  comfort  me  in  affliction,  to  give 
me  patience,  to  sustain  my  hopes,  and  to  support  and  cheer 
me  in  the  hour  of  death.  And  all  this  I  find  in  infinite 
abundance.  I  find  it  in  a  multitude  of  forms, — forms  the 
most  touching  and  impressive.  I  find  it  presented  in  the 
plainest,  simplest  style.  I  find  in  the  Bible  an  infinite 
treasury  of  all  that  is  holy,  just  and  good, — of  all  that  is 
beautiful,  sublime,  and  glorious, — of  all  that  is  quickening, 
renovating,  strengthening, — of  all  that  is  cheering,  exhila- 
rating, transporting, — of  all  that  I  can  wish  for  or  enjoy, 
— of  all  that  my  powers  can  comprehend, — of  all  that  my 
soul  can  appropriate  and  use.  I  find  in  it,  in  short,  riches 
unsearchable,  beyond  all  that  I  could  ever  have  asked,  or 
thought.     And  Avhat  can  I  wish  for  more  ? 

God  has  given  us  no  perfect  teachers,  no  perfect  preach- 
ers, no  perfect  churches ;  why  should  we  suppose  it  neces- 
sary that  He  should  give  us  a  perfect  book  ?  He  has  not 
given  us  any  perfect  books  on  medicine,  on  diet,  on  trades, 
on  politics,  on  farming,  on  gardening,  on  education,  or  on 
poetry.  Why  should  we  expect  Him  to  give  us  one  on 
religion  ?  As  a  matter  of  flict.  He  has  not  done  so.  Our 
common  Bible  is  a  translation.  So  are  all  the  common 
Bibles  in  the  world.     And  all  translations  are  imperfect. 


AND   WHAT   NOT   TO   EXPECT.  235 

The  translations  are  made  from  Greek  fPnd  Hebrew  Bibles, 
and  those  are  all  imperfect.  The  Greek  and  Hebrew  Bi- 
bles are  compiled  or  formed  from  Greek  and  Hebrew  manu- 
scripts. But  these  also  are  imperfect.  They  all  diifer  from 
each  other.  And  no  one  can  tell  which  is  nearest  to  the 
originals,  for  the  originals  are  lost.  So  that  whether 
there  was  an  absolutely  perfect  Bible  at  first  or  not,  there 
is  no  such  Bible  now.  God  Himself  has  so  ordered  things, 
that  all  the  Bibles  in  the  world,  like  all  the  preachers, 
churches,  and  teachers,  share  the  innocent  imperfections 
of  our  common  humanity. 

Suppose  the  original  Bible  to  have  been  perfect,  and  to 
have  been  preserved  from  destruction,  only  one  person 
could  have  possessed  it.  The  rest  would  have  had  to  be 
content  with  imperfect  human  copies.  God  might  Him- 
self have  written  perfect  Bibles  for  all  mankind,  but  He 
did  not  choose  to  do  it.  Or  He  might  have  made  perfect 
copies  of  the  original  Bible,  but  He  did  not  choose  to  do 
even  that.  He  might  have  employed  a  few  legions 
of  angels  in  making  copies  of  the  Bible  ;  but  that  He  did 
not  do.  He  left  the  work  to  be  done  by  men,  and  men 
have  done  it,  as  they  do  all  their  work,  imperfectly. 

Still,  they  have  done  it  well  enough.  The  poorest  manu- 
script Bible  in  the  world  is  good  enough.  The  most  im- 
perfect Greek  and  Hebrew  Bible  is  good  enough.  The 
poorest  translation  is  good  enough.  It  is  so  good,  we  mean, 
that  those  who  are  able  to  read  it,  may  learn  from  it  all  that  is 
necessary  to  make  them  good,  and  useful,  and  happy  on  earth, 
and  to  fit  them  for  the  blessedness  of  eternal  life  in  heaven. 

There  is  a  sense  in  which  no  translation  of  the  Scrip- 
tures is  good  enough,  if  we  can  make  it  better ;  and  we 
have  no  desire  to  prevent  men  from  doing  their  best  to  im- 
prove the  translations  in  all  languages  as  much  as  possible. 
But  do  not  let  them  make  the  impression  that  a  perfect 
translation  is  necessary  or  even  possible  ;  for  it  is  not.  God 
has  caused  the  Bible  to  be  written  in  such  a  way,  He  has 
put  all  important  matters  of  truth  and  duty  in  such  a  va- 
riety of  forms,  that  any  translation,  made  with  a  reasonable 
amount  of  learning  and  honesty,  is  sure  to  make  things  in- 
telligible enough  in  some  of  the  forms  in  which  they  are 
presented  in  the  Book. 


236  THE   BIBLE   A   MIXTURE. 

The  Bible,  like  the  Church  and  the  Ministry,  is  a  great 
mixture  of  the  human  and  the  divine.  There  is  not  a  single 
book,  nor  a  single  passage  perhaps,  in  the  whole  volume, 
in  which  the  weaknesses  of  man  and  the  perfections 
of  God  are  not  blended.  Everywhere  we  have  revelations 
of  the  divine  glory,  and  everywhere  we  have  manifesta- 
tions of  human  imperfection.  We  have  human  errors  side 
by  side  with  divine  truths.  We  have  neither  a  perfect 
teacher  nor  a  perfect  example  in  the  whole  Book,  but  one  ; 
and  of  that  one  we  have  not  a  perfect  record,  either  of  His 
teachings  or  His  life.  We  have  nothing  but  brief,  imper- 
fect, fragmentary  records  of  either.  They  are  perfect 
enough  ;  but  they  are  very  imperfect.  And  Moses,  and 
the  Prophets,  and  the  Apostles,  are  perfect  enough  ;  but 
they  are  all  imperfect.  The  Bible  is  perfect  enough  ;  but 
it  is,  according  to  the  ordinary  meaning  of  the  word,  still 
imperfect. 

We  do  not  need  perfection,  we  do  not  need  infallibility, 
in  anything ;  and  we  have  it  not.  Imperfection  is  better, 
and  that  we  have  in  everything. 

And  all  this  is  in  keeping  with  God's  doings  in  other 
cases.  ^  The  inspiration  of  the  Holy  One  giveth  man  un- 
derstanding ;'  but  does  not  make  his  mind  infallible. 
Christians  '  have  an  unction,  an  inspiration,  from  the  Holy 
One,  and  know  all  things  :'  and  yet  they  do  not  know  all 
things  ;  but  only  those  things  which  pertain  to  God  and 
Christ :  and  even  their  knowledge  of  these  is  acquired  not 
all  at  once,  or  without  the  use  of  means ;  but  by  degrees 
only,  and  by  the  faithful  use  of  their  natural  powers. 

The  Apostles  were  not  machines.  Their  inspiration  did 
not  take  away  their  liberty,  or  suspend  the  use  of  tlieir  na- 
tural powers.  Nor  did  it  teach  them  natural  science,  or 
history  ;  or  lift  them  above  ordinary,  innocent  errors.  Nor 
did  it  cause  them  to  learn  all  Christian  truth  at  once. 
They  gained  tlieir  knowledge  by  degrees.  Some  imagine, 
that  the  moment  the  Apostles  received  the  Spirit  on  the 
day  of  Pentecost,  they  were  perfect  and  infallible ;  whereas 
it  tool?:  them  nearly  ten  years  to  learn  that  they  were  to 
preach  the  Gospel  to  the  Gentiles.  They  had  the  words 
of  Christ,  '  Go  ye  into  all  the  world,  and  preach  the  Gospel 
to  every  creatare  ;'  yet  it  required  nearly  ten  years,  and  a 


NO   MAN   MADE   WHOLLY   INFALLIBLE.  237 

special  vision,  to  make  them  understand  that  evei-y  crea- 
ture included  the  Gentiles. 

Nor  have  we  any  proof  that  the  Spirit  ever  made  the 
Apostles  infallible  in  every  little  matter.  Paul  says,  when 
speaking  of  the  resurrection,  '  That  which  thou  sowest  is 
not  quickened,  except  it  die.'  Now  the  truth  is,  that  the 
seed  from  which  the  harvest  springs,  does  not  die.  It 
simply  expands  and  unfolds.  His  doctrine  was  right,  but 
the  notion  on  which  he  grounded  his  illustration  of  it  was 
an  error.  But  it  answered  his  purpose.  And  there  is  a 
sense  in  which  seed  dies.  It  ceases  to  be  a  seed  in  be- 
coming a  plant. 

Bishop  Watson  says,  '  a  grain  of  wheat  must  become  rot- 
ten before  it  can  sprout ;'  but  that  is  not  tlie  case.  It  ceases 
to  be  a  mere  grain  to  become  a  plant ;  but  it  does  not  be- 
come rotten ;  it  remains  alive  and  sound. 

The  Apostle  is  an  able  minister,  a  glorious  interpreter 
of  Christ  and  His  doctrine  ;  and  there  is  nothing  seriously 
amiss  in  his  illustrations ;  but  several  of  them  are  based  on 
prevailing  misconceptions. 

Some  say,  '  If  the  Apostles  were  not  infallible  in  every- 
thing, their  writings  would  be  of  no  use  to  us.  If  they 
might  err  in  one  thing,  they  might  err  in  others,  and  we 
could  have  no  certainty  of  the  truth  of  anything,'  But 
that  is  not  true.  On  one  occasion,  Paul  says,  '  I  knew  not 
that  it  was  God's  high-priest.'  And  on  another,  he  says, 
'  I  baptized  none  of  you  but  Crispus  and  Gains.'  After- 
wards he  says,  '  I  baptized  also  the  house  of  Stephanas :' 
and  he  finishes  by  saying,  '  I  know  not  whether  I  baptized 
any  other.'  Will  you  say,  '  If  Paul  could  be  ignorant  or 
mistaken  about  the  high-priest,  or  the  number  of  persons  he 
had  baptized  ;  he  might  be  ignorant  or  mistaken  on  every 
subject  ?'  The  truth  is,  a  man  who  was  so  much  taken 
up  with  great  things,  -would  be  sure  to  think  but  little 
of  small  things.  His  determination  to  know  nothing  but 
Christ;  would  be  sure  to  keep  him  from  wasting  his  time 
or  strength  on  trifles.  A  man's  ignorance  on  some  points 
is  often  proportioned  to  his  knowledge  on  others.  And 
Paul  is  all  the  more  trustworthy  on  great  matters  of  Chris- 
tian truth  and  duty,  because  of  his  indifference  to  matters 
of  little  or  no  imj^ortance.     And  say  what  we  will,  the 


238  THE   APOSTLES   NOT   EXCEPTED. 

Apostles  were  not  infallible  on  every  point,  and  they  never 
professed  to  be  so.  They  professed  to  be  inspired,  and  in- 
spired they  were,  but  they  did  not  profess  to  be  wholly 
infallible,  and  it  is  certain  they  were  not  so. 

And  the  admission  of  the  truth  on  this  point,  will  not 
destroy  our  confidence  in  them  on  others.  We  may  believe 
that  the  Apostles  were  fallible  on  matters  of  little  moment, 
and  have  the  fullest  assurance  possible  that  they  were 
i-ight  on  matters  of  great  importance. 

The  Apostles  themselves  were  sufficiently  assured  of  the 
truth  of  those  impressions  which  they  had  received  about 
Christ  through  their  eyes  and  ears  ;  yet  neither  the  eyes 
nor  the  ears  of  man  are  always  or  absolutely  infallible.  I 
have  myself  mistaken  blue  for  green,  and  yellow  for  white; 
and  I  recollect  two  occasions  on  which  coal  or  jet,  seemed, 
at  a  distance,  in  the  sunlight,  as  white  as  snow.  And  I 
have  often  thought  things  to  be  moving,  which  were  at 
rest ;  and  things  to  be  at  rest,  which  were  moving.  Yet  I 
have  the  fullest  confidence  in  my  eyes.  I  have  sometimes 
been  mistaken  with  regard  to  sounds.  I  have  thought  a 
sound  to  be  near,  when  it  was  far  off;  and  I  have  thought 
a  sound  to  be  far  off,  when  it  was  near.  And  I  have  olten 
mistaken  one  sound  for  another.  Yet  I  have  all  the  con- 
fidence I  need  to  have  in  my  ears.  Both  eyes  and  ears 
may  need  the  help  of  the  mind  at  times ;  but  the  mind  is 
always  at  hand  with  its  help.  In  short,  I  know  that  all 
my  senses  are  fallible  ;  yet  on  every  point  of  moment  I 
have  all  the  assurance,  with  regard  to  things  sensible,  that 
is  needful  to  my  welfare. 

And  so  with  regard  to  religious  matters.  There  is  no- 
thing like  omniscience, — nothing  like  infinite  or  absolutely 
perfect  knowledge  or  infallibility  in  any  man  :  yet  every 
one  may  have  all  the  information  and  all  the  assurance  on 
things  moral  and  sjiiritual  needful  to  his  comfort  and  sal- 
vation. 

Our  assurance  of  the  truth  and  excellency  of  Christian 
doctrine  rests  on  something  better,  surer,  than  theological 
and  metaphysical  niceties.  You  who  fancy  that  your 
strong  and  heart-cheering  fiiith  rests  on  theological  theories, 
and  that  if  those  theories  were  exploded,  it  would  ]>erish, 
arc,  happily,  under  a  great  mistake.     Your  faith,  and  hoj)c, 


INTERNAL   EVIDENCE   THE   BEST.  239 

and  joy,  rest  on  the  harmony  betwee'fi"  Christianity  and 
your  souls.  My  faith  and  trust  in  the  outward  world, 
and  my  infinite  appreciation  of  its  arrangements,  rest,  not 
on  any  philosophical  theory  ;  but  on  the  wonderful,  tlie 
perfect  adaptation  of  every  thing  to  my  nature,  to  my 
■wants,  to  my  comfort  and  welfare.  Nature  answers  to  mc, 
fits  into  me,  at  every  point.  I  am  just  the  kind  of  being 
nature  was  made  for  ;  and  nature  is  just  the  kind  of  world 
my  being  requires.  They  match.  They  answer  to  each 
other  exactly,  all  round,  and  make  one  glorious  and  blessed 
whole.     And  this  is  the  secret  of  my  trust  in  nature. 

And  so  it  is  with  regard  to  Christianity  and  my  soul. 
They  are  made  for  each  other.  They  fit  each  other.  My 
soul  just  wants  what  Christianity  brings ;  and  Christian- 
ity just  brings  what  my  soul  requires.  It  answers  to  my  soul, 
a.s  light  and  beauty  answer  to  the  eye,  and  as  sound  and 
music  answer  to  the  ear,  and  the  whole  of  nature  to  the 
whole  of  man.  There  is  neither  want,  nor  superfluity,  nor 
disagreement.  Christianity  and  my  soul,  like  nature  and 
my  physical  being,  are  a  glorious  match.  They  are  one  : 
as  I  and  my  life  are  one.  Christ  is  my  life.  Christ  is  my 
all.     And  He  is  all  that  my  soul  requires  or  desires. 

And  this  is  the  ground  of  the  good  Christian's  fiiith.  It 
is  not  external  or  historical  evidence  ;  it  is  not  metaphysi- 
cal niceties  or  theories ;  it  is  not  the  endless  mass  of  jarring 
evidences  of  any  kind  which  lie  in  misty,  musty,  dusty 
volumes  on  the  shelves  of  dreamy,  doting  divines,  that 
makes  you  feel  at  rest  in  Jesus  ;  but  Jesus  Himself,  whose 
fulness  just  answers  to  your  wants,  and  whose  life  and 
love  just  make  your  heaven.  It  is  just  that,  and  no- 
thing more. 

There  is  a  story  of  a  judge  who  was  celebrated  for  the 
wisdom  and  justice  of  his  judgments,  but  often  censured 
for  the  weakness  or  folly  of  the  reasons  which  he  gave  for 
them.  Many  Christians  resemble  this  judge.  They  make 
a  wise  and  worthy  profession  of  faith  ;  but  when  they 
attempt  to  give  reasons  for  their  belief,  they  betray  the 
most  lamentable  ignorance.  They  hove  good  reasons,  but 
they  cannot  put  them  into  words.  They  do  not  always 
know  what  their  reasons  for  believing  are.  The  reasons 
they  assign  are  not  their  real  reasons.     They  believed,  and 


240  INTERNAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  THE  MIGHTIEST. 

believed  on  good  grounds,  for  sufficient  reasons,  years  be- 
fore they  heard  of  the  reasons  tliey  give  for  their  belief  to 
those  who  question  them  on  the  subject.  The  reasons  they 
assign  did  not  at  first  convince  them,  and  they  are  not  the 
kind  of  reasons  likely  to  convince  others.  And  it  would  be 
better  if,  instead  of  assigning  them,  they  were  to  say  : 
*  Well ;  I  do  not  know  that  I  can  tell  you  the  reasons  why 
I  believe  the  Bible ;  but  I  have  reasons.  I  am  satisfied 
my  belief  is  right.  I  am  satisfied  the  Bible  is  the  right 
thing  for  me.  I  meet  with  things  in  it  that  make  me  ieel 
very  happy.  I  meet  with  things  in  it  that  will  not  let  me 
do  wrong  ;  that  will  keep  impelling  me  to  do  right,  to  do 
good.  I  meet  with  things  in  it  tlVat  support  me  in  trouble ; 
that  make  me  thankful  in  prosperity ;  that  fill  me  with 
good  thoughts,  good  feelings,  good  purposes,  good  hopes, 
great  peace,  sweet  rest,  strong  confidence,  and  a  blessecl 
prospect  of  a  better  life.  I  like  the  Bible  God  :  He  is  a 
great  protector,  and  a  blessed  comforter.  I  like  the  Bible 
story  about  Jesus,  and  all  the  glorious  things  it  says  about 
His  love  and  salvation.  In  short,  the  Bible  is  a  great 
part  of  ray  life,  my  soul,  my  joy,  my  strength,  my  being, 
and  I  don't  know  what  I  could  do  without  it.  I  cannot 
argue.  I  don't  know  the  reasons  why  I  believe.  But  the 
Bibl?  just  suits  my  soul,  and  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that 
the  world  would  be  a  dark  place,  and  life  a  poor  aftair, 
without  its  blessed  revelations  and  precious  promises. 

Now  in  speaking  thus,  most  men  would  really,  with- 
out knowing  it,  be  giving  the  reasons  or  grounds  of  their 
faith.  The  great  reason  really  is,  the  perfect  adaptation 
of  the  Bible  to  their  nature  and  wantvS.  They  believe 
unconsciously  and  unthinkingly  in  the  divinity  of  nature, 
on  account  of  tlie  wonderful  adaptation  of  its  provisions  to 
their  natural  wants.  They  believe  in  virtuous  love,  and 
honorable  marriage,  and  family  life,  and  natural  aifections, 
and  friendship,  and  society,  and  government,  and  law,  on 
similar  grounds.  Tiic  reasons  of  their  faith  are  real,  and 
good,  and  strong ;  but  like  the  roots  of  a  tree,  they  are  low 
down,  out  of  sight,  under  the  ground.  They  do  not  reflect 
on  them,  dig  them  n|),  bring  them  to  the  light,  and  give 
them  a  critical  examination. 

This  internal  evidence  is  gaining  favor  day  by  day.    It 


GREAT   POWER  OF   INTERNAL   EVIDENCE.  241 

is  preferred  by  the  ablest  modern  writef§"to  all  others.  It 
was  the  evidence  that  vanquished  the  infidel  socialists 
of  five  and  thirty  years  ago.  It  is  the  evidence  that  makes 
our  modern  infidel  advocates  wince  and  waver.  They 
hardly  think  it  necessary  to  notice  the  historical  evidences. 
They  know  that  they  seldom  get  hold  of  men's  hearts. 
But  they  cannot  afford  to  despise  the  internal  evidences. 
They  are  a  real  power.  Thousands  are  touched  by  a  sight 
of  Jesus  as  presented  in  the  Gospels,  for  one  that  is  moved 
by  arguments  from  miracles  or  prophecies.  Even  the  mi- 
racles of  Jesus  owe  their  chief  power  to  their  benevolent 
character. 

The  ablest  American  writer  on  the  Evidences  of  Chris- 
tianity, Rev.  Mark  Hopkins,  makes  the  moral  and  internal 
evidence  almost  everything,  and  the  external  ones  next  to 
nothing. 

The  Rev.  F.  C  Cooke,  Canon  of  Exeter,  in  his  lecture 
before  the  Christian  Evidence  Society  of  London,  says, 
'  The  one  great  evidence,  the  master  evidence,  the  evidence 
with  which  all  other  evidences  will  stand  or  fall,  is  Christ 
Himself  speaking  by  His  own  word.  It  is  the  charac- 
ter of  Jesus  that  makes  men  feel  that  He  and  His  religion 
are  divine.  It  is  this  that  warms  men's  hearts,  and  wins 
their  love,  and  produces  a  faith  full  of  life  and  power. 
Other  evidences  apart  from  this  leave  men  cold,  and  in- 
different, or  opposed  to  Christ.'  But  more  on  this  point 
hereafter. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

GOES   INTO    POLITICS.      ARRESTED.      LODGED   IN    PRISON. 

ELECTED   TOWN   COUNCILLOR,   MEMBER   OF 

PARLIAMENT,    &C. 

In  1846,  I  began  to  dabble  in  politics.  And  my  views 
of  political  subjects  were  as  much  out  of  the  ordinary  way  as 
my  views  on  matters  pertaining  to  religion.  I  was  a  re- 
publican. I  would  have  no  King,  no  Queen,  no  House 
of  Lords,  and  no  State  Church.  I  would  abolish  the  laws 
16 


242  GOES   INTO   POLITICS.      LIBERAL   VIEWS: 

of  entail  and  primogeniture,  and  reduce  land  to  a  level  with 
other  kinds  of  property.  The  sale  of  land  should  be  as  un- 
trammelled as  that  of  common  merchandise,  and  it  should 
be  as  liable  to  be  taken  for  debt.  I  broached  startling 
views  with  regard  to  the  right  of  property  in  land,  and 
urged  that  as  it  was  naturally  common  property,  it  should 
be  considered  as  belonging,  in  part,  to  the  nation,  or  Gov- 
ernment, and  made  to  bear  the  principal  burden  of  taxation. 
I  recommended  that  the  property  of  the  church  should  be 
used  for  the  promotion  of  education.  I  proposed  to  divide 
the  country  into  equal  electoral  districts,  and  give  to  every 
man  who  was  not  a  criminal,  a  vote  for  members  of  Parlia- 
ment. As  a  rule,  I  held  up  America  as  an  example  in 
matters  of  government,  but  objected  to  a  Senate  and  a  four 
years'  President,  preferring  to  place  all  power  in  the  hands 
of  one  Body,  the  direct  representatives  of  the  people.  A 
committee  of  that  Body  should  be  the  ministry,  and  the 
chairman  of  that  committee  the  President. 

I  really  believed  that  this  would  be  the  perfection  of  Gov- 
ernment. And  if  all  men  were  naturally  good,  as  Unita- 
rianism  taught,  what  could  be  wiser  or  better  calculated  to 
secure  the  happiness  of  a  nation,  than  to  give  every  one  an 
equal  share  of  the  power  ?  I  believed  with  Paine,  that  a 
pure  and  unqualified  democracy  would  secure  the  strictest 
economy,  the  greatest  purity,  the  best  laws,  and  the  most 
perfect  administration  of  the  laws.  I  also  believed  that  a 
pure  unmixed  democracy  would  prevent  insurrections,  re- 
bellions, and  civil  war,  and  that  it  would  promote  peace 
with  all  the  world.  True,  I  believed  the  people  would  re- 
quire education,  but  I  also  believed  that  an  ultra  democracy 
would  see  to  it  that  the  people  were  educated,  and  educated 
in  the  best  possible  way.  Were  not  the  people  educated  in 
America  ?  And  were  we  not  taught  that  the  educational 
system  of  America  was  the  result  of  its  democratic  form 
of  Government  ?  And  were  not  Price  and  Priestley  demo- 
crats ?  And  were  not  Channing  and  Parker,  the  two  great 
lights  of  Unitarian  ism  in  America,  democrats?  Democracy 
then  was  the  remedy  for  the  evils  of  the  world ;  the  one 
thing  needful  to  the  salvation  of  our  race. 

More  extravagant  or  groundless  notions  have  seldom 
entered  the  mind  of  man.     Yet  I  accepted  them  as  the  true 


BUT    NOT     QUITE    SOUND.  243 

political  gospel,  and  exerted  myself  to  tl*©-  utmost  to  propa- 
gate them  among  the  masses  of  my  countrymen.  The  Irish 
reformers  demanded  a  repeal  of  the  Union  and  the  right  of 
self-goverament.  I  advocated  both  repeal  for  Ireland  and 
Republicanism  for  England.  And  in  all  my  speeches  and 
publications  I  gave  utterance  to  the  bitterest  reproaches 
against  the  aristocracy,  and  against  all  who  took  their  part. 
I  had  suJBTered  grievously  in  my  early  days.  I  had  been 
subjected  to  all  the  hardships  and  miseries  of  extreme  pov- 
erty. I  had  spent  three  years  on  the  verge  of  starvation, 
never  knowing,  more  than  twice  or  thrice  during  the  whole 
of  that  dreadful  period,  what  it  was  to  have  the  gnawings 
of  hunger  appeased  by  a  plentiful  meal.  I  had  seen  one 
near  and  dear  to  me  perish  for  want  of  food,  and  had  escaped 
the  same  sad  fate  myself  by  a  kind  of  miracle  only.  And 
all  these  sufferings  I  believed  to  have  been  caused  by  the 
corn  and  provision  laws,  enacted  and  maintained  by  the 
selfishness  of  the  aristocracy.  I  regarded  the  aristocracy 
therefore,  and  all  who  took  their  part,  as  my  personal  ene- 
mies; as  men  who  had  robbed  me  of  my  daily  bread,  and 
all  but  sent  me  to  an  untimely  grave.  I  regarded  them  as 
the  greatest  of  criminals,  as  the  enemies  of  the  human  race. 
I  considered  them  answerable  for  the  horrors  of  the  first 
great  French  Revolution,  and  for  the  miseries  of  the  Irish 
famine.  I  gave  them  credit  for  nothing  good.  True,  they 
had  allowed  the  Reform  Bill  of  1831  to  pass,  but  not  till 
they  saw  that  a  refusal  would  cause  a  revolution.  They 
had  accepted  free  trade,  but  not  till  they  saw  that  to  reject 
it  would  be  their  ruin.  '  I  had  not  then  learnt  that  in  legis- 
lating with  an  eye  to  their  own  interests  they  had  done  no 
more  than  other  classes  are  accustomed  to  do  when  they  get 
possession  of  power.  I  had  not  yet  discovered  that  the 
germs  of  selfish  legislation  and  tyranny  are  sown  in  the 
hearts  of  all,  and  that  the  faults  of  the  higher  classes  pre- 
vail among  all  classes  under  different  forms,  I  saw  the 
misdoings  of  the  parties  in  power,  and  looked  no  further, 
and  I  heaped  on  them  the  bitterest  invectives.  My  pas- 
sionate hatred  of  the  privileged  classes,  expressed  in  the 
plainest  English,  and  justified,  apparently,  by  so  much  that 
was  bad  in  the  history  of  their  doings,  roused  the  indigna- 
tion of  my  hearers  and  readers  to  the  highest  pitch.     I  com- 


244  FRE]SrCH   EEVOLUTION  OF   1848. 

menced  a  periodical,  which  at  once  became  a  favorite  with 
the  ultra  democrats,  and  speedily  gained  an  extensive  cir- 
culation. 

In  1847,  in  my  Companion  to  the  Almanacs,  I  foretold 
the  French  Revolution  of  1848.     How  it  happened  I  do 
not  exactly  know ;  but  I  have,  at  times,  made  remarkable 
guesses,  and  this  perhaps  was  one  of  them.  When  the  Revo- 
lution took  place  it  caused  a   tremendous   excitement   in 
every  nation  in  Europe.     Kings  and  emperors  found  it  ne- 
cessary to  promise  their  subjects  constitutional  governments. 
It  turned  the  heads  of  many  people  in  England.  Numbers 
who  had  never  been  politicians  before,  became  politicians 
then.     And  many  politicians  who  had  previously  been  mod- 
erate in  their  views,  became  wild  and  revolutionary.      The 
Chartists   clamored  for  "  the  Charter,  the   whole   Charter, 
and  nothing  but  the  Charter."     Meetings  were  held  in  al- 
most every  part  of  the  country,  and  speeches  were  delivered, 
and  publications  were  circulated,  of  a  most  inflammatory 
character.     ]\Ionster  demonstrations  were  got  up,  and  many 
who  did  not  take  part  in  them  encouraged  them,  in  hopes 
that  they  would  frighten  the  Government  into  large  con- 
cessions to  the  party  of  reform.     A  meeting  of  the  leading 
reformers  was  called  in  London,  and  I  was  present.  Young 
Stansfield,  now  member  of  Parliament,  was  there,  and  Ser- 
geant Parry,  and  Edward  Miall,  and  Henry  Vincent,  and 
a  number  of  others.     The  Chartists  arranged  for  a  conven- 
tion in  London,  and  I  was  sent  as  a  member.     The  meet- 
ing cut  but  a  pitiful  figure.     It  soon  got  into  unspeakable 
disorder.     The  second  day  the  question  was,  "  What  means 
should  we  recommend  our  constituents  to  use  in  order  to 
obtain  the  reforms  they  desired  ?"     I,  extravagajit  as  I  had 
shown  myself  on  many  points,  had  always  set  myself  ngainst 
resort  to  violence.     My  counsel  therefore  was  for  j^eaceful, 
leo-al  measures.     Ernest  Jones  and  several  others  clamored 
for  organization,  with  a  view  to  an  armed  insurrection.  By 
and  by  we  got  into   confusion  again.     Some  one   hinted 
that  agents  of  the  Government  were  present,  and  that  we 
were  venturing  on  dangerous  ground.  Ernest  Jones  replied, 
"  It  is  not  for  us  to  be  afraid  of  the  Government,  but  for 
the  Government  to  be  afraid  of  us."     Confusion  got  worse 
confounded.     I  began  to  be  ashamed  of  my  position.    Mad 


BEITISH   GOVERNMENT   ALARMED.  245 

as  I  was,  I  was  not  insane  enough  for  -^e  leaders  of  the 
convention,  so  I  started  home. 

On  Good  Friday  there  was  an  immense  meeting  on 
Skircoat  Moor,  near  Halifax,  and  I  was  one  of  the  speakers. 
It  was  the  largest  assembly  I  ever  saw.  The  speakers  that 
preceded  me  talked  about  the  uselessness  of  talk,  and 
called  for  action.  I  talked  about  the  usefulness  of  talk, 
and  contended  that  resort  to  violence  would  be  both  folly 
and  wickedness.  While  I  was  speaking,  a  man  in  the 
crowd  on  my  left  fired  a  pistol,  as  if  to  intimidate  me,  and 
encourage  the  party  favorable  to  insurrection.  I  at  once 
denounced  him  as  a  traitor,  who  had  come  to  hurry  the  peo- 
ple into  crime,  or  a  madman,  whom  no  one  ought  for  a  mo- 
ment to  think  of  imitating.  The  physical  force  men  were 
terribly  vexed  at  my  remarks,  but  the  mass  of  the  meeting 
applauded  my  counsels,  and  the  immense  concourse  dispersed 
and  went  home,  without  either  perpetrating  a  crime,  or 
meeting  with  an  accident. 

My  advocacy  of  peace  was  duly  appreciated  by  some  even 
of  those  who  lamented  the  extravagance  of  my  views  on 
other  subjects.  Others  looked  on  me  with  unmitigated 
horror.  And  the  feelings  of  the  richer  classes  generally 
against  me  rose  to  such  a  pitch  at  length,  that  it  was  hardly 
safe  for  me  to  go  abroad  after  dark.  My  religious  and 
political  opponents  joined  their  forces,  and  seemed  bent  on 
my  destruction.  They  believed  I  was  undermining  the 
foundations  of  society,  and  throwing  all  things  into  confusion. 
They  looked  on  me  as  little  better  than  a  madman,  scattering 
abroad  firebrands,  arrows,  and  death.  And  many  treated 
me  as  a  kind  of  outlaw,  as  a  man  who  had  no  rights  that 
anybody  was  bound  to  respect ;  and  rude  boys  and  reckless 
men  took  liberties  with  my  property,  and  even  threatened 
me  with  death.  Insurance  companies  would  not  insure  my 
property.  Schoolmasters  would  not  admit  my  sons  into 
their  schools,  lest  others  should  take  their  children  away. 
Mothers  would  not  allow  their  daughters  to  play  with  my  little 
daughter,  lest  she  should  infect  them  with  her  father's  heresies. 

After  the  Summer  Assizes  in  1848,  the  judge  at  Liver- 
pool issued  Bench  warrants  for  the  arrest  of  a  number  of 
political  agitators,  and  in  the  list  of  the  names  of  those 
parties,  published  in  the  newspapers,  mine  was  included. 


246  JUDGES    ISSUE   BENCH   WARRANTS. 

As  I  had  always  kept  within  the  limits  of  the  law,  and  as 
I  had  received  no  visit  from  the  police,  I  supposed  that  my 
name  had  been  inserted  in  the  list  by  mistake.  And  as  I 
was  allowed  to  remain  at  large  for  six  weeks,  I  felt  confident 
that  it  was  either  some  other  Joseph  Barker  that  was  wanted, 
or  that  my  name  had  been  mentioned  as  one  of  the  parties 
to  be  arrested,  in  jest,  or  to  frighten  me  into  silence. 

And  the  probability  is,  that  if  I  had  kept  at  home  and 
remained  quiet,  I  should  have  been  permitted  to  go  on  with 
my  business  undisturbed.  But  I  had  an  engagement  at  the 
end  of  six  weeks,  to  give  two  political  lectures  at  Bolton. 
Just  about  that  time  a  vacancy  occurred  in  the  representation 
of  that  Borough,  and  my  friends  there,  without  consulting 
me,  put  me  forward  as  a  candidate  for  the  vacant  seat,  and 
announced  my  lectures  as  a  statement  of  my  political  views, 
urging  the  people  to  come  and  hear  me,  and  judge  for 
themselves,  whether  I  was  not  the  fittest  man  to  represent 
them  in  the  National  Legislature. 

I  gave  my  first  lecture  on  a  Friday  night,  to  a  crowded 
and  excited  audience  in  the  Town  Hall,  and  when  I  had 
done,  the  i)eople  passed  a  resolution  by  acclamation,  to  the 
effect  that  I  was  just  the  man  for  them,  and  that  they  would 
have  no  other. 

On  the  Saturday  I  went  on  into  AYales,  to  fulfil  an  en- 
gagement which  I  had  for  the  Sunday,  and  returned  on 
Monday  to  give  my  second  lecture.  When  I  got  near  to 
Bolton,  some  friends  met  me,  and  told  me  that  the  police 
from  Manchester  were  in  the  town  looking  for  me,  and  that 
I  had  better  go  right  home.  I  said,  "  Nay,  I  never  broke 
an  engagement  yet,  and  I  won't  do  so  now ;"  so  I  went  on. 
As  soon  as  I  had  rested  myself  a  little  I  went  direct  to  the 
head  of  the  Manchester  police,  and  asked  him  if  he  would 
not  allow  me  to  deliver  my  lecture,  promising,  if  he  wished 
it,  to  go  with  him  quietly  afterwards.  He  said.  No,  I  could 
not  be  allowed  to  deliver  my  lecture,  and  added,  that  I 
must  consider  myself  his  prisoner,  I,  of  course,  offered  no 
resistance,  but  at  his  request  went  Avith  him  at  once  to  the 
railway  station.  The  people  had  already  collected  in  the 
streets  as  I  passed  along,  and  there  was  soon  an  excited 
crowd  at  the  station,  but  I  and  my  friends  urged  them  to  be 
peaceful,  and  peaceful  they  were.     We  were  soon  at  Man- 


AUTHOR   AEEESTED.      LODGED     IN    JAIL.  247 

Chester,  and  I  was  taken  at  once  to  tl%e-  City  Jail,  where 
lodgings  had  been  procured  for  me  at  the  public  expense. 
I  passed  the  night  in  an  underground  cell,  of  the  kind 
provided  for  criminals  of  the  baser  sort.  It  was  anything  but 
clean  and  sweet,  and  the  conduct  of  the  authorities  in 
placing  me  in  such  a  hole,  when  I  was  not  even  charged  with 
any  gross  offence,  was  neither  wise  nor  just.  There  were 
some  raised  boards  on  one  side,  but  no  bed,  no  sheets,  no 
blankets. 

It  was  not  long  before  a  number  of  friends  who  had 
heard  of  my  arrest,  called  to  see  me,  and  were  admitted  to 
my  dungeon.  They  brought  some  food,  some  candles,  and 
as  they  had  been  informed  that  I  had  not  been  permitted  to 
wash  myself  before  being  locked  up,  one  of  them,  a  lady, 
brought  me  a  moistened  towel  with  which  to  wipe  my  face. 
While  these  kind  friends  were  trying  to  make  things 
comfortable  for  me  in  my  prison,  others  were  running  to 
and  fro  in  search  of  bail,  with  a  view  to  my  speedy  release. 
One  dear,  good  soul,  Mr.  Travers  Madge,  when  he  heard 
that  I  was  in  jail,  started  at  once  for  Mcssley,  a  distance  of 
ten  or  eleven  miles,  to  see  Mr.  Robinson,  a  faithful  friend, 
to  request  him  to  come  to  my  help.  It  was  two  o'clock  in 
the  morning  when,  weary  and  full  of  anxiety,  he  knocked  at 
Mr.  Robinson's  door.  Mr.  Robinson  rose  as  soon  as  he 
heard  his  voice,  and  took  him  into  the  house,  and  requested 
him  to  take  something  to  eat,  and  go  to  rest  till  daylight, 
promising  to  start  with  him  back  to  Manchester  by  the 
earliest  conveyance.  But  poor  Mr.  Madge  could  neither  eat 
nor  sleep  till  his  friend  was  out  of  prison. 

Early  in  the  morning  I  was  brought  into  court.  Bail 
was  offered  at  once,  but  the  magistrates  would  not  accept 
bail  so  early,  though  offered  by  well-known  and  thoroughly 
respectable  parties.  The  reason  was,  the  election  was  to 
take  place  at  Bolton  that  day,  and  the  magistrates  were 
afraid  that  if  I  were  allowed  to  be  present,  there  might  be 
more  excitement  than  would  be  consistent  with  the  peace 
and  safety  of  the  Borough.  So  they  kept  me  in  prison  till 
four  o'clock,  when  they  received  intelligence  that  the  election 
was  over,  and  that  all  was  peaceful.  They  then  set  me  at 
liberty.  I  went  at  once  to  Bolton,  and  found,  sure  enough, 
that  I  had  been  elected,  and  that  by  an  immense  majority, 


248  ELECTED   MEMBER   OP    PARLIAMENT. 

of  more  than  eight  to  one.  And  as  no  one  else  was  elected 
at  that  time,  either  by  show  of  hands  or  a  jwll,  I  was,  in 
truth,  tlie  only  legal  representative,  though  I  never  sat  in 
Parliament.     Explanations  after. 

I  was  soon  surrounded  by  a  vast  multitude  of  people, 
to  whom  I  gave  a  short  address.  As  soon  as  I  could  get 
away  from  the  excited  crowd,  I  hastened  home.  A  friend 
had  started  for  Wortley  as  soon  as  I  was  out  of  prison,  to 
inform  my  wife  and  children  that  I  was  safe  and  at  liberty, 
and  he  was  there  when  I  arrived.  It  fortunately  happened 
that  my  family  heard  of  my  imprisonment  and  of  my  libe- 
ration at  the  same  time,  and  from  the  same  lips,  so  tliat  the 
shock  they  received  was  not  so  severe  as  it  might  have 
been.  But  they  were  terribly  tried.  It  would  be  vain  to 
attempt  to  describe  their  feelings  when  they  saw  me  enter 
the  house.  I  did  my  best  to  comfort  them,  and  assured 
them  that  I  should  take  no  hurt. 

I  was  bound  over  to  appear  to  take  my  trial  at  the 
Winter  Assizes  on  a  charge  of  sedition  and  conspiracy,  and 
I  set  to  work  to  prepare  for  the  event.  A  good  kind  friend 
residing  at  Barnard  Castle,  George  Brown,  Esq.,  who  had 
helped  me  in  my  contests  with  my  theological  opponents, 
helped  me  in  this  new  trial.  He  had  studied  the  law  all  his 
life,  and  was  a  most  faithful  and  trustworthy  adviser.  He 
directed  me  what  steps  to  take,  and  all  his  instructions 
proved  wise  and  good. 

My  friends  set  on  foot  a  subscription,  to  procure  for  me 
the  ablest  defence,  and  raised,  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks, 
from  two  to  three  hundred  pounds.  I  am  amazed  when  I 
look  back  to  those  days,  at  the  number  and  ardor  of  my 
friends,  and  at  the  eagerness  with  which  they  hastened  to 
my  aid. 

Some  friends  from  Holbeck,  in  the  Borough  of  Leeds, 
requested  me  to  allow  myself  to  be  put  forward  as  a  candi- 
date for  the  Town  Council  at  the  approaching  election. 
Not  thinking  that  I  should  have  any  chance  of  being  elect- 
ed, I  hesitated ;  but  as  they  expressed  a  contrary  opinion, 
and  seemed  exceedingly  anxious  that  I  should  place  my- 
self in  their  hands,  I  complied  with  their  request.  They 
elected  me  by  the  largest  number  of  votes  that  had  ever 
been  given  for  a  town  councillor  in  any  borough  in  the 


CHOSEN  TOWN   COUNCILLOR.  24^ 

kingdom  up  to  that  time.  My  neigliborS*- chose  this  method 
of  testifying  theu'  regard  for  me,  and  of  protesting  against 
the  conduct  of  the  Government  in  interfering  with  my 
liberty. 

At  length  the  Assizes  came.  I  made  my  appearance  in 
court  at  the  time  appointed,  with  more  than  thirty  volun- 
tary Avitnesses  by  my  side,  all  j)repared  to  testify,  that  in 
my  lectures  and  public  speeches  I  had  uniformly  advocated 
peaceful  measures,  and  denounced  everything  in  the  shape 
of  conspiracy,  violence,  or  insurrection.  I  waited  ten  days 
for  my  trial,  attending  in  court  all  the  time.  I  watched 
the  trials  of  other  political  prisoners,  and  was  not  a  little 
discouraged  to  find  that  they  were  all  convicted,  and  sen- 
tenced, generally,  to  lengthy  terms  of  imprisonment.  The 
charge  against  one  of  the  prisoners  Avas,  that  he  had  sold  and 
circulated  seditious  publications.  Coi^ics  of  the  works  which 
he  was  charged  with  circulating  were  brought  into  court. 
What  were  my  feelings  when  I  found  that  the  publications 
were  my  own  Co7npanion  to  the  Almanacs,  and  my  weekly 
periodical  The  People.  These  works  were  handed  about 
the  court,  and  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  judge.  The 
man  was  convicted,  and  sentenced  to  two  years'  impri- 
sonment. What  chance  was  there  now  for  me?  My 
solicitor  advised  me  to  plead  guilty,  telling  me  I  should 
thus  get  off  with  a  lighter  punishment;  but  I  refused. 
Some  did  plead  guilty,  and  did  get  off  with  lighter  punish- 
ments than  those  who  stood  their  trial ;  but  I  was  deter- 
mined to  have  a  public  trial,  or  else  be  honorably  dis- 
charged. 

It  was  alarming  enough  to  see  a  man  convicted  for  selling 
my  publications  :  but  something  still  more  alarming  hap- 
pened the  following  day.  A  most  unprincipled  and  lying 
witness  was  brought  forward  by  the  Attorney-General. 
During  the  trial  of  one  of  the  Chartist  leaders  he  swore  that 
he  had  himself  formed  one  of  a  band  of  conspirators  in 
Manchester,  who  pledged  themselves  to  burn  the  city,  and 
who  had  prepared  the  most  destructive  combustibles  to 
secure  the  success  of  their  horrible  plot.  When  asked  to 
name  the  parties  composing  the  meeting  at  which  he  said 
he  had  been  present,  he  named  me  as  one.  I  was  horrified. 
I  had  never  seen  the  man  before  in  all  my  life,  and  the  idea 


250         IN   COURT.      SERIOUS   ASPECT   OF   AFFAIRS. 

that  I  should  be  a  party  to  such  a  plot  as  he  had  described, 
was  monstrous ;  but  what  was  to  hinder  a  prejudiced  or  a 
frightened  jury  from  believing  his  testimony?  Fortunately 
for  me,  the  Judge  asked  him  if  he  saw  in  court,  and  could  point 
out,  any  of  the  persons  he  had  named  as  parties  to  the  conspi- 
racy. I  stood  within  two  or  three  yai'ds  of  him,  and  looked 
him  full  in  the  face.  It  was  plain  from  the  way  in  which 
his  wandering  eyes  passed  by  me,  that  whatever  other 
parties  he  might  know,  he  did  not  know  me.  At  length 
he  pointed  out.  a  person  that  he  said  was  present  at  the 
secret  meeting.  '  What  is  his  name  ?  '  said  the  Judge.  The 
fellow  gave  a  uame.  It  was  not  the  right  one.  He  pointed 
out  another.  '  What  is  his  name  ? '  said  the  Judge  again. 
The  fellow  gave  a  name.  He  was  wrong  again.  The 
court  got  out  of  patience  with  the  villain,  and  the  Judge 
ordered  him  into  custody  to  await  his  trial  on  a  charge 
of  perjury.  This  Avas  an  unspeakable  relief  both  to  me  and 
to  my  anxious  wife  and  friends,  who  had  witnessed  the 
dreadful  affair  with  the  most  intense  anxiety  and  alarm. 

Some  time  after  this  horrible  exhibition  of  baseness,  my 
solicitor  came  to  me  and  told  me  that  he  had  had  an  inter- 
view with  the  Attorney-General,  and  that  he  had  authorized 
him  to  say,  that  if  I  would  enter  into  bonds  and  give 
securities  to  keep  the  peace,  he  would  not  ask  me  to  plead 
guilty,  but  set  me  at  liberty  without  more  to  do.  He  evCii 
offered,  at  last,  to  accept  my  own  recognizances  to  the  small 
amount  of  fifty  pounds,  without  any  other  security.  I  re- 
fused the  offer.  To  give  bonds  to  keep  the  peace  seemed 
like  an  acknov/ledgment  that  I  had  attempted  or  threat- 
ened to  break  it;  and  I  had  done  no  sucli  thing.  My 
solicitor  said  the  offer  was  a  very  generous  one,  and  pressed 
me  very  earnestly  to  accept  it:  my  counsel  did  the  same; 
but  without  effect.  A  number  of  friends  came  round  me 
and  tried  to  remove  my  objections  to  the  measure  :  but  all 
was  vain.  I  was  sorry  to  go  against  their  advice,  but  my 
feeling  was,  that  to  agree  to  the  compromise  proposed  would 
be  a  sacrifice  of  principle,  and  would  entail  dishonor  on  me, 
and  be  followed  by  self-reproach  and  shame.  At  last,  to 
obtain  a  little  respite,  and  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  my  im- 
portunate friends  for  a  time,  I  told  my  solicitor  that  I  would 
lay  the  matter  before  my  wife,  and  that  whatever  she  might 


STANDS   FIRM.      A    NOBLE   WIFE.  251 

advise,  I  would  do.  He  agreed  to  this. "^ He  was  satisfied 
that  there  was  not  a  woman  in  the  country  that  woukl  not 
advise  her  husband  to  make  a  concession  like  that  required 
of  me,  rather  than  see  him  run  the  risk  of  two  or  three 
years'  imprisonment. 

My  wife  was  at  Southport  just  then,  some  eighteen  miles 
away,  and  it  was  too  late  for  me  to  get  to  her  that  evening, 
so  I  had  to  spend  the  night  alone  in  Liverpool.  I  went 
to  bed,  but  found  it  impossible  to  sleep.  My  anxious  mind 
kept  turning  over  and  over  the  proposal  of  the  Attorney- 
General,  and  trying  to  find  some  good  reason  for  accepting 
it ;  but  all  in  vain.  I  had  promised  to  be  guided  by  my 
wife ;  but  suppose  she  should  counsel  pie  to  give  the  re- 
quired secui'ity,  could  I  do  so  and  be  haj^py  ?  It  seemed 
impossible.  It  struck  twelve, — it  struck  one — two — three, 
and  I  was  still  unsettled.  At  last  I  said,  '  I  will  explain 
my  misgivings  to  my  wife, — I  will  tell  her  that  I  feel  as 
if  I  should  never  be  happy  to  consent  to  the  compromise, 
— that  I  cannot  get  rid  of  the  feeling  that  it  would  be  dis- 
honorable. And  I  know  she  will  never  advise  me  to  do 
anything  that  I  regard  as  dishonorable.'  As  soon  as  I  had 
fairly  decided  what  to  do,  I  fell  asleep. 

I  was  at  Southport  in  the  morning  by  the  earliest  con- 
veyance, and  laid  the  matter  before  my  wife.  '  Do  nothing,' 
said  she,  '  that  you  regard  as  a  sacrifice  of  j)i'iuciple,  or  an 
act  of  dishonor.  Whatever  you  believe  to  be  your  duty, 
do  it ;  I  am  willing  to  take  the  consequences.'  I  answered, 
'  I  believe  it  my  duty  to  insist  on  a  trial,  or  on  an  honora- 
ble discharge.'  '  Then  insist  on  it,'  said  she.  That  was 
enough.  I  returned  to  Liverpool  at  once,  and  told  my 
solicitor  the  result  of  my  interview  with  my  wife,  and  lie 
communicated  the  intelligence  to  'the  Attorney-General. 
The  Attorney-General  was  very  much  vexed,  and,  using 
an  expression  which  we  cannot  with  propriety  repeat,  de- 
clared that  he  would  '  make  me  squeak.' 

The  result  of  my  refusal  was  that  the  Attorney-General 
put  off  my  case  to  tiie  very  last.  On  the  eleventh  day 
of  the  Assizes  I  was  placed  in  the  dock  with  a  number 
of  prisoners  who  had  agreed  to  plead  guilty,  and  enter  into 
bonds.  My  name  was  called  at  length,  and  I  refused  either 
to  plead  guilty,  or  to  be  bound  to  keep  the  peace.     '  Can 


252     GREAT  TRIUMPH.      HONORABLY   DISCHARGED. 

there  be  any  man  so  foolish  as  not  to  accept  the  mercy 
of  her  Majesty  ?  '  said  the  Judge.  My  answer  was,  that  I 
had  committed  no  crime,  and  that  it  was  justice  that  I 
wanted,  and  not  mercy.  '  I  demand  a  trial,'  said  I,  '  or  an 
honorable  discharge.  I  have  been  arrested  on  a  charge  of 
sedition  and  conspiracy,  and  held  up  before  the  world  as  a 
criminal,  and  I  claim  the  right  of  justifying  myself  before 
the  public,  unless  I  am  honorably  discharged.'  The  Judge 
said  I  had  no  need  to  concern  myself  about  the  public, — 
that  the  public  did  not  concern  itself  about  me.  I  answered 
that  the  public  did  concern  itself  about  me ;  and  that  I 
was  right  in  concerning  myself  about  the  public.  At  this 
point  my  Counsel  rose,  and  spoke  of  my  character  and  posi- 
tion, with  a  view  to  justify  my  demand  for  a  trial,  or  an 
honorable  discharge.  The  Attorney-General  then  applied 
for  a  postponement  of  my  trial  to  the  following  Assizes, 
alleging  that  I  was  the  author  of  a  seditious  and  blasphe- 
mous publication.  I  said  the  statement  was  false,  and  that 
the  Attorney-General  had  no  right  to  make  such  a  charge 
against  me,  and  added  that  to  ask  a  postponement  after  I 
and  my  witnesses  had  been  waiting  there  eleven  days,  was 
most  unreasonable.  The  Judge  then  asked  on  wliat  grounds 
a  postponement  was  desired.  When  the  Attorney-Gen- 
eral stated  his  grounds,  the  Judge  pronounced  them  in- 
sufficient. The  Attorney-General  then  said  he  should  en- 
ter a  nolle  prosequi.  Some  of  my  friends,  when  they  heard 
this,  were  greatly  alarmed.  They  supposed  it  to  be  a 
threat  of  something  very  terrible,  and  expected  to  see  me 
carried  away  at  once  to  prison.  And  some  of  the  by- 
standers began  to  reproach  me,  and  say  I  was  rightly 
served  for  not  accepting  the  generous  offer  of  the  Attorney- 
General.  I,  of  course,  knew  that  the  Attorney-General's 
nolle  prosequi  meant  that  he  would  have  nothing  more  to 
do  with  me,  and  that  I  was  now  free.  While  therefore 
my  friends  were  fearing  and  trembling,  I  stood  calm  and 
comfortable.  After  a  few  moments  the  Judge  said  '  You 
are  at  liberty,  and  may  retire.' 

When  my  friends  found  that  I  was  free,  they  were  wild 
with  delight,  and  flocked  round  me,  eager  to  shake  me  by 
the  hand,  and  give  me  their  congratulations.  They  were 
now  satisfied  that  in  rejecting  the  proposal  of  the  Attorney- 


EXHAUSTION.      ILL   HEALTH.      BAD   SIGNS.         253 

General,  I  had  done  no  more  than  my  duty.  One  gentle- 
man, who  had  been  bail  for  me,  was  extravagant  enough 
to  declare  that  I  occupied  the  proudest  position  of  any  man 
in  the  country.  '  You  have  withstood  the  tyranny  of  the 
Government,'  said  he,  '  and  have  triumphed.'  I  hurried 
home  as  fast  as  I  could  with  my  happy  wife  and  my  ex- 
ulting friends.  When  we  got  there  the  cannon  were  roar- 
ing and  the  bands  playing.  My  workmen  and  neighbors 
had  heard  of  my  triumph,  and  were  celebrating  it  in  the 
noisest  way  they  could.  Then  followed  feasting  and  pub- 
lic congratulations,  both  at  home  and  in  distant  parts  of  the 
country,  and  for  a  time  I  was  quite  a  hero. 

The  interference  of  the  authorities  with  my  liberty,  and 
the  needless  annoyances  to  which  they  had  subjected  me, 
had  roused  my  indignation  to  a  high  pitch,  and  after  my 
liberation,  I  wrote  and  spoke  more  violently  against  the 
Government  than  I  had  done  before.  At  length  the  great 
excitement  in  which  I  had  so  long  lived,  and  the  excessive 
labors  in  which  I  had  been  so  long  engaged,  exhausted  my 
strength ;  my  health  began  to  fail ;  I  thought  my  constitu- 
tion was  giving  way,  so  I  resolved  on  some  change  of  po- 
sition and  occupation. 

I  had  long  suffered  from  dyspepsia.  For  twenty  years 
I  had  spent  so  much  nervous  energy  in  mental  work,  that 
I  had  not  sufficient  left  to  digest  my  food.  And  I  had 
suffered  in  consequence,  not  only  from  violent  heart-burn, 
but  from  a  more  distressing  pain  at  the  pit  of  my  stomach. 
I  had  continually,  or  almost  continually,  for  months  to- 
gether, a  feeling  as  if  a  red-hot  bullet  lay  burning  in  my 
stomach,  or  as  if  some  living  creature  was  eating  a  hole 
through  the  bottom  of  it.  I  took  medicine,  but  it  gave  me 
no  relief.  •  The  disuse  of  intoxicating  drinks  had  once 
cured  me  for  a  time, — cured  me  for  some  years  in  fact, — 
but  the  torturing,  depressing  sensation  came  again  at  last, 
and  seemed  more  obstinate  than  ever. 

In  1847,  as  I  was  leaving  home  one  day  in  the  train,  I 
was  seized  with  a  pain  of  a  much  more  dreadful  description. 
It  seemed  as  if  it  would  burst  my  stomach,  or  tear  it  in 
pieces,  and  destroy  my  life  at  once.  It  continued  for  near- 
ly an  hour.  It  returned  repeatedly,  and  remained  some- 
times for  several  hours.     In  some  cases  it  tortured  me  all 


254  VOYAGE   TO   AMERICA. 

night.  Vomiting  took  it  away,  so  I  frequently  took  warm 
■water  to  produce  vomiting.  I  was  advised  to  take  more 
exercise  in  the  open  air,  so  I  bought  a  gun  and  went  out 
shooting.  I  purchased  a  horse  and  carriage  too,  and  went 
out  riding.  These  did  me  good.  But  I  found  that  when 
I  took  certain  kinds  of  food,  such  as  rich  cakes,  rich  pies, 
or  rich  puddings,  the  pain  returned.  So  I  began  to  deny 
myself  of  those  luxuries.  But  even  spare  living  seemed  to 
lose  its  effect  after  a  time,  and  first  the  gnawing,  and  then 
the  stretching,  tearing,  rending  pain  returned. 

In  1849, 1  took  a  voyage  to  America.  Vast  numbers 
of  my  readers  wanted  to  emigrate  to  America,  and  they 
looked  to  me  for  information  respecting  the  country.  I 
had  given  them  the  best  I  could  get,  but  they  wanted  more- 
and  better.  They  wanted  me  to  visit  the  country,  and  give 
them  the  result  of  my  observations  and  inquiries.  I  did  so. 
To  fit  myself  the  better  for  giving  them  counsel,  I  crossed 
the  ocean  in  a  common  emigrant  sailing  vessel,  and  saw 
how  the  poor  creatures  fared.  We  were  nearly  eight  weeks 
on  the  water.  For  much  of  the  time  the  winds  were  idle. 
They  refused  to  blow.  They  might  have  struck  for  shorter 
hours  or  better  j)ay.  When  they  did  blow,  they  blew 
with  all  tkeir  might,  but  almost  always  in  the  wrong 
direction  ;  as  if  they  regarded  us  as  their  enemies,  and  were 
bent  on  giving  us  all  the  annoyance  they  could.  Many 
were  sick ;  more  were  discontented ;  and  all  longed  wearily 
for  land.  These  eight  weeks  were  the  longest  ones  I  ever 
lived.  They  looked  like  years.  At  length  we  got  a  sight 
of  land,  and  rejoiced  exceedingly.  For  myself,  I  had  other 
feelings  as  well  as  joy,  when  I  first  got  sight  of  the  great 
New  World  of  which  I  had  heard,  and  read,  and  thought  so 
much,  and  so  long,  and  of  which  I  had  dreamt  so  often.  For 
America  had  lived  in  my  thoughts  from  my  early  days; 
and  the  first  faint  glimpse  of  her  wooded  shores  thrilled  my 
whole  soul  with  unspeakable  emotions. 

We  landed.  I  examined  the  emigrant  boarding  houses. 
I  sought  information  about  work  and  wages,  and  about 
means  of  transport  to  the  West.  I  called  on  Horace  Gree- 
ley and  others,  to  whom  I  had  letters  of  recommendation, 
"who  helped  me  to  books  about  the  West.  I  made  my  way 
through  New  York,  and  across  Lake  Erie  to  Cleveland.  I 


EXPLORES  THE  COUNTRY.    REPORTS  THE  RESULT.  255 

liad  three  brothers  who  were  settled  irT  different  parts 
of  Ohio,  and  a  number  of  old  friends.  I  visited  them.  I 
explored  Ohio.  I  went  into  Western  Virginia,  and  ex- 
amined some  lands  there  that  had  been  advertised  for  sale 
in  England.  I  passed  on  to  Michigan,  Indiana,  Illinois, 
and  Wisconsin.  I  spent  some  days  in  Chicago.  The  city 
was  awfully  dull.  The  people  were  despondent.  I  almost 
think  I  could  have  bought  the  whole  city  for  fifty  thousand 
pounds.  I  had  a  farm  offered  me  for  seven  dollars  and  a 
half  an  acre,  on  which  now  a  great  part  of  the  city  I  sup- 
pose is  built.  I  went  to  Milwaukie.  There  the  people 
seemed  more  hopeful;  though  several  were  leaving  for 
warmer  climes.  It  was  autumn,  and  I  treated  myself  free- 
ly to  the  peaches  and  other  rich  fruits  of  the  country. 
About  the  end  of  October  I  started  for  England,  in  one 
of  the  Cunard  Steamers,  crossing  the  ocean  in  nine  days, 
about  one-sixth  of  the  time  I  spent  in  the  voyage  out. 

I  gave  to  my  readers  an  account  of  all  I  had  seen,  and 
heard,  and  read,  and  thousands  of  them  left  the  land 
of  their  birth  in  search  of  homes  in  the  domains  of  the 
Great  Republic.  Some  got  home-sick,  and  cursed  me.  Some 
got  profitable  work,  or  promising  farms,  and  blessed  me. 
And  I  learned  two  lessons;  first,  that  a  man  must  not 
look  to  men  for  the  reward  of  his  beneficent  services,  but  to 
God  and  a  good  conscience ;  and,  second,  that  some  will 
be  miserable,  and  that  some  will  be  happy,  go  where  they 
may : — that  it  is  not  the  land  they  live  in,  but  the  disposi- 
tions they  cherish,  and  the  life  they  live,  that  makes  their 
heaven  or  hell. 

I  had  already  made  up  my  mind  to  settle  in  America 
myself,  and  early  in  1851  1  disposed  of  my  business,  and 
prepared  to  transport  myself  and  my  family  to  Central 
Ohio.  I  had  suffered  so  long  from  pain,  and  weakness, 
and  depression,  and  I  was  so  utterly  wearied  with  continual 
over-work,  and  so  disgusted  too  with  the  government  and 
institutions  of  the  country,  and  with  some  of  its  inhabi- 
tants, that  I  felt  it  an  infinite  relief  to  be  freed  from  all 
further  care  and  concern  about  business,  and  in  the  first 
rush  of  my  new  wild  joy,  I  took  my  gun  and  blew  off  part 
of  the  top  of  the  chimney  of  my  printing  establishment. 
No  child  could  be  wilder  in  his  delight,  when  escaping 


256  EMIGRATES.      OBJECTS   IN   DOING  SO. 

from  long  confinement  in  a  weary  school,  and  starting  for 
the  longed-for  society  and  pleasures  of  his  home. 

But  preparing  for  a  journey  of  four  thousand  miles,  with 
wife  and  children,  was  itself  M^ork  enough  for  a  time. 
There  were  a  hundred  things  to  be  bought,  which  you  would 
need  in  your  new  and  far  off  home.  And  there  were  a  thou- 
sand things  which  you  already  had,  to  be  packed,  and  as 
many  more  to  be  set  aside,  to  be  destroyed,  or  sold,  or 
given  away.  And  there  were  a  thousand  letters  and  papers 
to  be  examined,  and  a  judgment  formed,  as  to  which 
should  be  preserved,  and  which  should  perish  in  the  flames. 
And  there  were  visits  to  be  paid  and  repaid,  and  there  were 
partings,  and  regrets,  and  tears.  But  all  was  over  at 
length,  and  we  were  on  our  way  to  the  world  beyond  the  flood. 

It  was  pleasant  to  get  away  from  one's  religious  and  po- 
litical opponents,  but  painful  to  part  with  so  many  de- 
voted friends,  who  had  proved  their  affection  for  me  and 
for  my  family  by  so  many  sacrifices,  and  their  steadfast- 
ness in  times  of  so  much  trial.  But  I  had  hopes  of  keep- 
ing up  my  intercourse  with  them  through  the  Press,  and 
of  ministering  to  their  gratification  and  improvement  by 
sending  them  accounts  of  all  I  saw  or  learnt  of  an  interest- 
ing character  in  the  land  to  which  I  was  going.  I  had 
also  hopes  that  a  quiet  home,  in  a  retired  and  peaceful  part 
of  a  new  country,  might  prove  conducive  to  my  own  im- 
provement and  happiness. 

One  of  the  objects  I  had  in  view  in  going  to  America 
was  to  obtain  a  little  quiet  for  calm  reflection  on  the  course 
I  had  so  long  been  pursuing,  and  a  sober  consideration 
of  the  position  which  I  had  reached.  I  was  not  satisfied 
that  the  changes  which  had  taken  place  in  my  views  and 
way  of  life,  since  my  separation  from  the  Church  and  the 
ministry,  had  all  been  changes  for  the  better.  I  had  had 
suspicions  for  some  time,  that  amidst  the  whirl  of  peri)e- 
tual  excitement  in  which  I  had  lived,  and  the  continual 
succession  of  angry  contests  in  which  I  had  been  engaged, 
I  had  j)robably  missed  my  way  on  some  points,  and  I 
wished  for  a  fiivorable  o])portunity  of  ascertaining  whether 
these  suspicions  were  well  grounded  or  not. 

But  when  I  got  to  America  I  found  myself  in  a  condi- 
tion less  friendly  to  calm  reflection  and  to  a  just  and  im- 


DISAPPOINTED.      HOW  ?  257 

partial  review  of  my  past  history,  than  the"15ne  from  which 
I  had  tied.  The  very  day  we  landed  in  New  York  we 
fell  in  with  the  Hutcliinson  family.  I  had  become  ac- 
quainted with  them  in  England,  and  had  spent  some  time 
in  their  company,  and  had  attended  some  of  their  concerts 
at  Leeds.  They  were  to  sing  that  night  in  New  York, 
and  we  attended  the  performance,  and  were  delighted  with 
their  sweet  wild  music,  and  with  their  wisdom  and  their 
wit.  They  were  all  reformers  of  the  radical  school,  and 
though  their  songs  and  conversation  were  not  immoral  or 
profane,  they  were  advanced  beyond  the  bounds  of  reli- 
gion, into  the  neutral  ground  of  Latitudinarianism. 

When  we  got  to    Akron,  Ohio,  we  found  a  Woman's 
Rights    Convention   in  session ;  and  there   we  got   intro- 
duced to  a  number  of  advanced  spirits,  both  male  and  fe- 
male, and  in  their  society  became  acquainted  witli   quite  a 
multitude  of  strange  and  lawless  speculations,  of  which, 
till  then,  we  had  lived  in  happy  or  in  woful  ignorance.  We 
reached  at  length  the  region  where  we  were  to  make  our 
home,  and  now  other  matters  engrossed  my  mind.     I  had, 
in  the  first  place,  a  farm  to  select,  and  then  the  purchase  to 
make.     I  had  then  my  goods  to  look  after,  my  house  to 
arrange,  and  ray  food  to  provide.  Then  work  wanted  doing 
on  the  farm — a  hundred  kinds  of  work,  all  new,  and  many 
of  them  hard  and  very  perplexing.  We  wanted  men  to  aid 
us  ;  and  men  were  not  to  be  got ;  or,  when  got,  were  diffi- 
cult to  manage,  and  hard  to  please.     And  horses,  and  cows, 
and  sheep,   were    wanted;    and   poultry,    and   pigs;    and 
ploughs,  and  harrows,  and    wagons,  and    harness.     And 
stoves  and  fuel  were  required.     And  the  house  had  to  be 
enlarged,  and  the  barns  rebuilt,  and  the  gardens  cultivated, 
and  the  orchard   replanted.     And   a  hundred  lessons  on 
farming  had   to   be    learnt,  and    a    hundred    more    to    be 
unlearnt.     And   we   were   always    making   mistakes,  and 
sustaining  losses.     And    our  neighbors  were  not  all  that 
we  could  wish  ;  and  we  were  not  all  that  thev  could  wish. 
It  was  impossible  to  avoid  impositions,  and  difficult  to  take 
injustice^  quietly ;  so  we  remonstrated,   and   resisted,  and 
made  things  worse. 

Before  we  had  got  ourselves  fliirly  settled  we  began  to 
be  visited  by  a  number  of  friends.     And  many  of  those 
17  ■' 


258  GAEEISONIAN  ABOLITIONISTS.   THEIR  INFLUENCE. 

friends  were  wilder  and  more  extravagant,  in  their  views 
on  religion  and  politics,  than  myself;  and  instead  of  help- 
ing me  to  quiet  reflection,  did  much  to  render  such  a  thing 
impossible.     They  were  mostly  Garrisonian  Abolitionists, 
with  whom  I  had  become  acquainted  while  in  England,  or 
through  the  medium  of  anti-slavery  publications.     Many 
of  them  had  had  an  experience  a  good  deal  like  my  own. 
They  had  been  members  and  ministers  of  churches,  and 
had  got  into  trouble  in  consequence  of  their  reforming  ten- 
dencies, and  had  at  length  been  cast  out,  or  obliged   to 
withdraw.      They   had   waged    a   long    and   bitter   war 
against  the  churches  and  ministers  of  their  land,  and  had 
become  skeptics  and  unbelievers  of  a  somewhat  extrava- 
gant kind.     Henry  C.  Wright  was  an  Atheist.     So  were 
some  others  of  the  party.     My  own  descent  to  skepticism 
\yas  attributable  in  some  measure  to  my  intercourse  with 
them,  and  to  a  perusal  of  their  works,  while  in  England. 
The  first  deadly  blow  was  struck  at  my  belief  in  the  super- 
natural inspiration  of  the  Scriptures  by  Henry  C.  Wright. 
It  was  in  conversation  with  him  tod  that  my  belief  in  the 
necessity  of  church  organization  was  undermined,  and  that 
the  way  was  smoothed  to  that  state  of  utter  lawlessness  which 
so  naturally  tends  to  infidelity  and  all  ungodliness.     My 
respect  for  the  talents  of  the  abolitionists,  and  the  interest 
I  felt  in  the  cause  to  which  they  had  devoted  their  lives,  and 
the  sympathy  arising  from  the  similar  way  in  which  we  had 
all  been  treated  by  the  churches  and  priesthoods  with  which 
we  had  come  in  contact,  disposed  me,  first,  to  regard  their 
skeptical  views  with  favor,  and  then  to  accept  them  as  true. 
And  now  they  welcomed    me  to   their  native  land,  and 
embraced  the  earliest  opportunity  of  visiting  mo  in  my  new 
home.     And  all  that  passed  between  us  tended  to  confirm 
us  in  our  common  unbelief.     I   afterwards  fnmd  that  in 
some  of  the  abolitionists,  in  nearly   all,  I  fear,  anti-chris- 
tian  views  had  led  to  immoral  habits,  wliich  rendered  their 
antijiathy  to  Christianity  all  the  more  bitter.'    In  almost 
all  of  tiiem  infidelity  had  i)roduced  a  lawlessness  of  specu- 
lation on  moral  matters,  which  could  hardly  fail  to  produce 
in  the  end,  if  it  had  not  already  produced,  great  licentious- 
ness of  life. 

I  had  no  sooner  got  things   comfortably  fixed  at  home, 


THEIR   GREAT   ANTI-SLAVERY   ANNIVERSARY.     259 

than  I  received  an  invitation  from  the  American  Anti- 
slavery  Society,  to  attend  their  Annual  Meeting,  which  was 
to  be  held  in  Rochester,  New  York.  I  went,  and  there 
I  met  with  S.  S.  Foster,  Abby  Kelly  Foster,  Parker  Pills- 
bury,  C.  L.  Remond,  Henry  C.  Wright,  Wendell  Phillips, 
W.  L.  Garrison,  Lucy  Stone,  Lucretia  and  Lydia  Mott, 
and  a  number  of  other  leading  Abolitionists.  Here  too  I 
met  with  Frederick  Douglas,  the  celebrated  fugitive  slave, 
who  had  settled  in  Rochester,  and  was  publishing  his 
paper  there.  Some  of  the  Anti-Slavery  Leaders  I  had 
seen  before  in  England,  and  had  had  the  pleasure  of  hav- 
ing them  as  my  guests,  and  of  enjoying  their  conversation. 
Henry  0.  Wright,  W.  L.  Garrison,  Frederick  Douglas, 
and  C.  L.  Remond,  were  old  acquaintances.  The  rest  I 
knew  only  by  report :  but  I  had  read  the  story  of  their 
labors  and  sufferings  in  behalf  of  the  negro  slave,  and  had 
longed  for  years  to  make  their  acquaintance.  They  were, 
in  my  estimation,  among  the  best  and  bravest  of  their  race. 
I  had  read  of  them  a  thousand  times  with  the  greatest  in- 
terest, and  a  thousand  times  I  had  washed  for  the  honor 
of  co-operating  with  them  in  their  generous  labors.  And 
now  I  was  in  their  midst,  on  American  soil.  And  all 
seemed  glad  to  make  my  acquaintance,  and  eager  to  testify 
their  regard  for  me,  and  to  welcome  me  to  a  share  in  their 
benevolent  labors.  I  was  soon  at  home  with  them  all,  for 
they  were  a  free  and  hearty  people.  I  attended  both  their 
public  and  their  private  meetings.  The  anniversary 
lasted  several  days,  and  the  time  was  one  continued  Festi- 
val. There  were  people  from  almost  every  part  of  the 
country,  and  the  house  of  every  Anti-Slavery  person  in  the 
city  was  placed  at  the  service  of  the  visitors.  They  were 
as  one  family,  and  had  all  things  in  common.  The  public 
meetings  were  largely  attended,  and  the  audiences  seemed 
favorably  impressed.  In  the  intervals  I  visited  the  Falls 
on  the  Genesee  River.  More  beautiful  and  enchanting 
scenes  I  never  beheld.  In  all  but  terrible  grandeur  they 
equal,  if  they  do  not  surpass,  the  Falls  of  Niagara. 

And  there  was  an  infinite  abundance  of  strange  and  ex- 
citing conversation  in  many  of  the  circles,  not  only  on 
Slavery,  but  on  the  Bible  and  Religion,  on  the  Church  and 
the  Priesthood,  and  on  Woman's  Rights,  and  the  Bloomer 


260  A   PICTURE.      A   HOST   OF    FANATICISSIS. 

CostuMis,  and  Marriage  Laws,  and  Free-love,  and  Educa- 
tion, and  Solomon's  Hod,  and  Non-resistance,  and  Human 
Government,  and  Communism,  and  Individualism,  and 
Unitarianism,  and  Theodore  Parkerism,  and  Spiritualism, 
and  Vegetarianism,  and  Teetotalism,  and  Deism,  and  Athe- 
ism, and  Clairvoyance,  and  Andrew  Jackson  Davis,  and 
the  American  Congress,  and  Quakerism,  and  William 
Henry  Channing,  and  his  journey  to  England,  and  Free-soil, 
and  the  Public  Lands,  and  the  Common  Right  to  the  Soil, 
and  Rent,  and  Interest,  and  Capital,  and  Labor,  and  Fou- 
rierism,  and  Congeniality  of  Spirit,  and  Natural  Affinities, 
and  Domestic  Difficulties,  and — the  Good  time  Coming. 
All  were  full  of  reform,  and  most  were  wild  and  fanatical. 
Som3  regarded  marriage  as  unnatural,  and  pleaded  for  Free- 
love  as  the  law  of  life.  Some  were  for  Communism,  but 
differed  as  to  the  form  which  it  ought  to  assume.  One  con- 
tended that  all  should  be  perfectly  free, — that  each  should  be 
a  law  unto  himself,  and  should  work,  and  rest,  and  eat,  and 
drink,  as  his  own  free  spirit  should  prompt  him.  Another 
said  that  the  principle  had  been  tried,  and  had  failed, — 
that  some  were  anxious  to  do  all  the  eating,  and  sleeping, 
and  loving,  and  left  others  to  do  all  the  working.  Joseph 
Treat  was  there,  advocating  Atheism,  and  defending  the 
right  of  men  and  women,  married  or  single,  to  give  free 
play  to  native  tendencies  and  sexual  affinities.  But  Treat  was 
indifferently  clad,  and  not  well  washed,  and  he  Avas  evident- 
ly no  great  favorite.  *  *  *  Most  were  in  favor  of  non- 
resistance,  and  full  individual  freedom.  To  acknowledge 
the  right  of  human  government  and  of  liimian  laws,  was 
treason  to  humanity.  Man  is  a  law  to  himself.  He  is  his 
own  governor.  The  Protestant  principle  of  the  right 
of  private  judgment  and  liberty  of  conscience  strikes  at  the 
root  of  all  the  governments  on  earth.  Each  one's  nature 
is  his  own  sole  law.  The  one  principle  of  duty  is,  for 
every  one  to  do  that  which  is  right  in  his  own  eyes. 
The  princi})le  of  the  Anti-Slavery  Society  means  that, 
and  neither  more  nor  less.  And  the  Anti-Slavery 
Society  will,  after  emancipating  the  negro,  destroy  all 
the  governments,  remodel  all  the  laws  and  institutions, 
and  emancipate  all  the  nations  of  the  earth.  Of  course  the 
laws  of  marriage    will  fall  to    the  ground.     Why    not? 


WILD    FAXCIES.      NEW   BIKTHS   OF    TIME.  261 

They  originated  only  with  men, — with  men  who  lived  in 
darker  times,  and  who  were  less  developed,  than  we.  It 
would  be  strange  if  children  could  make  laws  fit  to  govern 
men.  And  with  the  laws  of  marriage  will  go  the  laws  of  pro- 
perty in  land.  Land  was  common  property  at  first,  and  what 
right  had  any  one  to  make  it  private  ?  The  first  man  who 
appropriated  land  was  a  thief.  And  those  who  inherited 
it  from  him  were  receivers  of  stolen  goods.  And  the  title 
that  was  vicious  at  first  could  never  be  made  valid  by  time. 
The  continuance  of  a  wrong  can  never  make  it  right.  Allow 
that  men  have  a  right  to  the  land  in  consequence  of  long 
j^ossession  and  inheritance,  and  you  must  allow  that  men 
may  have  a  right  to  their  slaves.  The  right  to  land, 
and  the  right  to  slaves,  are  not  so  diiferent  as  some  would 
suppose.  What  is  man's  right  to  his  own  body  worth,  if  he 
is  deprived  of  his  right  to  the  land  ?  Man  lives  from  the 
land,  and  unless  he  has  a  right  to  the  land,  he  can  have  no 
right  to  life.  A  right  to  life  implies  a  right  to  the  land. 
Men  live  on  the  land  as  well  as  frovi  it ;  and  if  they  have 
not  a  right  to  the  land,  they  can  have  no  right  to  live. 
And  man  has  a  right  to  perfect  freedom.  Life  Avithout 
freedom  is  slavery ;  and  slavery  is  the  extinction  of  all 
rights,  the  right  to  life  included.  And  woman  has  equal 
rights  with  man.  And  children  have  equal  rights  with 
either.  The  idea  that  human  beings  have  no  rights  till 
they  are  twenty-one,  is  monstrous.  What  mighty  change 
is  it  that  takes  place  at  the  moment  a  person  reaches  the 
age  of  twenty-one,  that  he  should  be  a  slave  a  moment  be- 
fore, and  a  free  man  a  moment  after  ?  No  change  at  all 
takes  place.  The  rights  of  a  human  being  are  the  gift 
of  Nature,  and  not  the  gift  of  the  law.  Who  authorized 
men  to  make  laws  for  one  another  ?  In  making  men  dif- 
ferent from  each  other,  Nature  has  made  it  impossible  for 
one  man  to  legislate  wisely  for  another.  The  majority  have 
a  right  to  rule  themselves,  but  they  have  no  right  to  rule 
the  minority.  All  rights  are  the  rights  of  individuals,  and 
the  rights  of  individuals  composing  a  minority,  are  the  same 
as  the  rights  of  individuals  composing  a  majority.  A  man 
may  elect  a  representative ;  but  he  cannot  be  bound  by  a 
representative  elected  by  others.  Children  should  be  edu- 
cated, not  by  force  or  authority,  but  by  attraction.     The 


262  STRANGE   DEVELOPMENTS. 

assumption  of  authority  over  a  child  by  a  parent  is  usur- 
pation ;  the  use  of  authority  over  a  child  is  tyranny.  The 
individuality  of  a  child  is  its  life,  and  life  is  sacred.  To 
destroy  individuality  is  murder.  AVe  have  no  right  to 
take  Nature's  place,  and  make  a  human  being  something 
diiferent  from  what  she  has  formed  him.  Solomon's  rod 
and  Paul's  authority  are  alike  immoral.  All  should  be 
governed  by  their  attractions,  like  the  orbs  of  heaven,  and 
the  constituents  of  the  earth.  The  law  of  Nature  is  one, 
both  for  living  men  and  dead  matter.  Our  sympathies  and 
affinities  are  our  only  rulers.  They  are  ourselves,— our 
best  selves, — and  to  allow  either  law  or  ruler  to  interfere 
with  them,  is  self-destruction.  We  are  no  longer  ourselves 
when  we  allow  ourselves  to  be  controlled  by  the  will  or 
power  of  another.  Animals  have  equal  rights  with  man. 
The  poet  was  right  when  he  said, 

"Take  not  away  the  life  thou  canst  not  give, 
For  all  things  have  an  equal  right  to  live." 

How  can  man  have  a  right  to  take  away  the  life  of  an 
animal  ?  Tlie  lower  animals  occupied  the  world  before 
man,  and  man,  a  later  comer,  could  not  abrogate  the  prior 
rights  of  his  predecessors.  The  use  of  animal  food  is  un- 
natural. It  is  unhealthy.  In  feetling  on  other  living 
creatures  man  degrades,  corrupts,  and  then  destroys  him- 
self. And  vegetables,  grains,  and  fruits  should  be  taken 
in  their  natural  state.  The  art  of  cooking  is  an  unna- 
tural innovation.  The  first  of  our  race  did  not  cook.^ 
Man  is  the  only  cooking  animal,  and  he  is  the  only  sickly 
one.  He  is  the  only  one  that  loses  his  teeth,  or  suf- 
fers from  indigestion.  Teetotalism  is  binding  on  all.  Al- 
cohol is  an  unnatural  product.  Man  is  the  only  being 
unnatural  enougii  to  drink  it.  Grapes  are  good,  and  so 
is  grain  ;  but  wine,  and  beer,  and  spirits,  are  a  trinity 
of  devils,  which  destroy  the  bodies  and  torment  the  souls 
of  uimatural  men.  "  There  is  no  God,"  said  one.  "  Gods 
and  devils  are  alike  fantastic  creatures  of  the  erring  mind 
of  man."  "  But  there  mit^hc  a  God,"  said  another.  "  All 
nature  cries  aloud  there  is  a  God.  Our  own  hearts' instincts 
— our  highest  intuitions,  —assure  us  there  is.     As  well  deny 


ALL   THINGS   UPSIDE    DOWN.  2G3 

the  universe,  and  the  primal  intuitions  of  humanity,  as  the 
being  of  God.  A  God  and  a  future  life  are  necessities 
of  human  nature.  And  there  is,  icithout  us,  a  supply  for 
every  want  ivWihi  us.  As  soon  will  you  find  a  race  of  be- 
ings with  appetites  for  food,  for  whom  no  food  is  provided, 
as  a  race  with  longings  for  God  and  desires  for  immor- 
tality, while  no  God  and  immortality  exist  to  meet  those 
longings,  to  satisfy  those  desires."  "  But  if  tliere  be  a  God 
to  answer  to  our  longings,  and  a  blessed  immortality  to 
satisfy  our  desires,  why  not  a  devil  to  answer  to  our  fears, 
and  a  hell  to  answer  to  our  guilty  terrors  ?  And  would  a 
God  leave  us  without  a  revelation  of  his  will."  "  The  in- 
stincts of  our  nature  are  the  revelation  of  God's  wilh  To 
obey  our  instincts  is  to  obey  the  law  of  God."  "  Then  is 
the  law  of  God  as  various  as  men's  natural  tendencies  ? 
Does  the  murderer,  whose  tendency  is  to  kill,  obey  the  law 
of  God,  as  well  as  the  victim  who  struggles  to  escape  his 
doom  ?  And  does  the  eagle  obey  the  law  of  God  in  pounc- 
ing on  the  dove,  and  the  dove  in  seeking  to  evade  its  talons  ? 
Is  every  tendency  the  law  of  God  ?  If  it  be  the  will 
of  God  that  the  powerful  tendencies  of  some  should  neu- 
tralize the  feebler  tendencies  of  othei's,  is  not  might,  right  ? 
And  if  might  be  right,  why  murmur  at  anything  that  is? 
For  everything  that  is,  exists  by  virtue  of  its  might :  and 
every  thing  that  perishes,  perishes  in  virtue  of  its  weakness. 
Are  you  not  sanctioning  the  doctrine  of  the  Optimist,  and 
saying  with  Pope, 

"In  spite  of  sense,  in  erring  reason's  s\Aie, 
One  truth  is  clear — Avhatever  is,  is  eight." 

"  Whatever  is,  is  right,"  says  another.  "  It  is  the  result 
of  eternal  wisdom,  of  almighty  power,  and  infinite  love. 
God  is  all  perfect,  and  He  is  all  in  all.  A  perfect  God 
could  have  nothing  short  of  a  perfect  object  in  all  His  works, 
a  perfect  motive  prompting  Him,  a  perfect  rule  to  guide  Him ; 
and,  as  the  author  of  all  existence,  a  perfect  material  out 
of  which  to  make  the  creatures  of  His  love.  All  is  perfect. 
It  is  men's  own  imperfection  tliat  makes  them  think  other- 
wise." "  All  is  perfect,"  you  say,  "yet  man  is  imjicrfed;  and 
his   imperfection  makes   him  think  other  things  imperfect. 


264  THIS  A  WONDERFUL  WORLD. 

All  is  perfect,  yet  something  is  imperfect ;  and  that  some- 
thing is  the  most  jierfect  or  the  least  imperfect  creature  in 
existence."  "  Imperfection  itself  is  a  part  of  perfection/' 
says  the  Optimist.  "  As  discords  are  necessary  to  the  high- 
est musical  compositions ;  so  imperfection  is  necessary  to  the 
highest  perfection." 

"  The  most  difficult  point  of  all,"  says  a  philosophical 
Unitarian,  "  is  that  of  necessity.  Every  thing  must  have 
a  cause.  Man's  actions  are  the  result  of  physical  causes  ; 
yet  man  is  consciously  free."  "  Man  is  no  more  free  than 
the  planets,"  says  an  Atheist.  "  He  acts  freely,  as  the 
planets  do, — that  is,  he  acts  in  harmony  with  his  tenden- 
cies,— in  harmony  with  the  causes  of  his  actions, — the 
causes  of  his  actions  cause  them  by  causing  him  to  will 
them,  by  inclining  him  to  do  them ;  and  the  causes 
of  planetary  action  produce  that  action  in  the  same  way : 
but  the  freedom  and  the  necessity  are  the  same  in  the  one 
case  as  in  the  other.  All  is  free,  and  all  is  bound.  The 
chain  is  infinite,  eternal,  and  ahnighty.  The  difference 
between  man  and  a  planet  is,  that  man  is  conscious  of  his 
acts,  and  the  planet  is  not."  "  Then  duty  is  a  dream,"  said 
a  third,  "  and  conscience  a  delusion ;  and  responsibility  a 
fiction  ;  and  virtue  and  vice  are  alike  unAvorthy  of  either 
praise  or  blame,  reward  or  punishment."  "  A  tree  is  not 
responsible,"  said  the  Necessitarian,  "yet  we  cut  it  down, 
if  it  bears  no  fruit ;  and  we  cut  oif  the  natural  branches, 
and  insert  new  scions,  if  its  fruit  is  not  to  our  liking.  A 
musquito  is  irresponsible,  yet  we  kill  it  when  it  gives  us 
pain.  A  horse  is  irresponsible,  yet  we  caress  it  when  it 
gives  us  pleasure."  "  So  man  is  no  more  than  a  tree, 
a  musquito,  or  a  horse !  And  selfishness  is  the  measure 
of  our  duty  !  We  caress  or  kill  as  we  are  pleased  or 
pained."     And  so  the  conversation  ran  on  in  one  party. 

In  another  the  Bible  is  the  subject  of  conversation.  But 
here  all  are  agreed  on  the  principal  point.  No  one  regards 
it  as  of  supernatural  origin,  or  of  Divine  authority.  The 
question  is,  whether  the  Anti-Slavery  Society  shall  acknow- 
ledge that  the  clergy  are  right  in  saying  that  the  Bible  sanc- 
tions Slavery.  "  That  it  does  sanction  Slavery  is  certain," 
says  one.  "  Abraham  was  a  slave-holder,  a  slave-trader, 
and  a  slave-breeder.     Isaac  inherited  his  slave  property. 


MAN  A  TREMENDOUS  CREATURE.        265 

Jacob  had  slaves,  and  had  offspring  by  two  of  them.  Moses 
allows  the  Jews  to  buy  up  the  nations  round  about  them, 
and  to  hold  them  as  slaves,  as  a  possession,  and  to  transmit 
them  as  an  inheritance  to  their  children  for  ever.  The 
Decalogue  recognizes  slaves  as  property.  Jesus  never  con- 
demns slave-holding,  and  Paul  returns  a  fugitive  to  his 
master.  Take  the  clergy  at  their  word.  Acknowledge 
that  their  sacred  book  does  sanction  Slavery.  Acknowledge 
that  it  allows  a  master  to  flog  his  slave  to  death,  on  the 
ground  that  the  slave  is  his  money.  Acknowledge  too 
that  it  allows  the  slave-holder  to  make  his  female  slaves 
his  concubines.  Acknowledge  every  thing.  Take  the 
preachers'  side  in  the  matter,  and  you  will  shock  the 
preachers,  and  you  will  shock  the  public,  and  cause  them 
to  give  up  the  defence  of  Slavery."  "  The  slave-holders 
are  not  governed  by  the  Bible,"  says  another.  "  Their 
appeal  to  it  is  only  a  pretence, — an  argumentum  ad  hominem. 
They  favor  Slavery  because  it  is  profitable,  and  because 
they  like  it.  Make  it  unprofitable,  and  they  will  soon  find 
a  different  interpretation  for  the  Bible."  "  Show  that  the 
Bible  is  no  authority, — that  it  is  merely  a  human  book, — 
and  you  take  away  their  argument  for  Slavery,"  said  one. 
"  Their  argument  is  force,"  said  another,  "  and  you  will 
never  abolish  Slavery  till  you  take  up  arms  and  crush  the 
tyrants."  "  But  the  Bible  is  the  question,"  says  a  third. 
"  Call  a  Convention  to  discuss  the  Bible,"  said  I,  and  the 
Convention  was  accordingly  called. 

And  thus  the  conversation  ran  in  private  circles,  during 
the  intervals  of  the  public  meetings. 

I  had  supposed,  that  as  the  people  of  America  had  got 
a  Democratic  form  of  government,  no  further  reforms  were 
necessary,  except  the  Abolition  of  Slavery.  I  now  found 
however  that  there  were  more  Reformers,  and  a  greater 
variety  of  Reformers,  in  the  circle  into  which  I  had  fallen, 
than  in  England.  There  was  nothing  right, — nothing  as  it 
ought  to  be.  The  family,  the  church,  the  school,  the 
government,  religion,  morals,  and  even  nature  were  all 
wrong.  The  world  was  full  of  prejudice.  We  were  heirs 
of  all  the  mistakes  of  our  forefathers  for  a  thousand  gen- 
erations. "  Every  thing  wants  destroying,"  said  one, 
"that  every  thing  may  be   created    anew."     The   oracle 


266  UNIVERSAL   PEOGRESS   BACKWARD. 

of  the  universe  cries,  "  Behold,  I  make  all  things  new ;  " 
and  that  oracle  we  ought  to  echo ;  and  on  that  oracle  we 
ought  to  act.  '  When  I  was  a  child,  I  thought  as  a  child, 
I  spoke  as  a  child,  I  understood  as  a  child;  but  when  I 
became  a  man,  I  put  away  childish  things.'  Such  was 
the  language  of  the  great  Reformer  of  antiquity.  The 
human  race  should  adopt  the  same  language,  and  follow 
the  great  example.  The  race  should  say,  '  When  I  was  a 
child,  /  thought  as  a  child,  /  spoke  as  a  child,  /  under- 
stood as  a  child  ;  but  now,  having  become  a  man,  I  will 
put  away  childish  things.'  I  will  put  away  my  childish 
thoughts  on  religion,  on  science,  on  morals,  on  government, 
on  education,  on  marriage,  on  slavery,  on  war,  on  every 
thing.  The  fact  that  they  are  old,  is  a  proof  they  are 
wrong.  The  clothes  which  fit  a  child  cannot  fit  a  man. 
The  notions,  the  institutions,  the  laws,  which  were  good 
for  the  world's  infancy,  cannot  be  good  for  its  manhood." 
"  And  they  shall  be  put  away,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned," 
said  a  lady.  "  And  they  shall  be  put  away,  so  far  as  I 
am  concerned,"  answered  another.  "  Ye  are  born  again," 
says  a  third.  •'  That  noble  declaration  proves  you  new 
creatures.  Old  things  are  passed  away  ;  behold,  all  things 
are  become  new." 

A  thousand  wild  sentiments  were  uttered ;  a  thousand 
extravagant  things  were  said ;  and  many  unwise  things 
were  done.  It  was  plain  that  a  license  of  thought  was 
preparing  the  way,  had  already  prepared  the  way,  for  a 
license  of  deed.  This  license  produced  a  fearful  amount 
of  mischief  before  long.  It  had  produced  no  little  then. 
Many  a  domestic  schism, — many  a  disgraceful  alliance, — 
many  a  broken  heart, — were  the  result  of  those  lawless, 
wanton  speculations. 

And  some  came  to  see  their  folly  and  repented  in  part. 
Lucy  Stone  declared  she  would  never  marry  according  to 
law  ;  but  she  married  according  to  law  in  the  end,  content- 
ing herself  with  recording  a  vain  and  foolish  protest.  Har- 
riet K.  Hunt  would  never  pay  any  more  taxes  till  she  was 
allowed  to  vote,  and  was  eligible  to  the  Presidency  of  the 
United  States.  Whether  she  has  paid  her  tax  or  not  we 
do  not  know ;  but  she  has  not  yet  got  a  vote,  and  is  cer- 
tainly not  yet  the  President  of  the  United  States.     Mrs.  C. 


GRAVE   EEFLECTIONS.      SAD    RESULTS.  267 

L.  made  a  declaration,  the  publicatioi*^  of  which  covered 
her  hard-working  and  excellent  husband  with  shame;  but 
she  too  has  since  seen  her  error,  and  endeavored  to  make 
all  things  right. 

It  was  rather  amusing,  but  somewhat  startling, — it  was 
very  bewildering,  yet  very  instructive, — to  listen  to  all  the 
projects  and  theories  of  a  multitude  of  thoughtful  people, 
suddenly  emancipated  from  religion  and  moral  obligation, 
and  from  law  and  custom,  and  to  speculate  on  what  might 
be  the  result  of  so  much  extravagance.  It  put  humanity 
before  one  in  a  new  light.  It  was  a  new  revelation.  And 
all  those  people  were  educated  up  to  the  American  stand- 
ard. And  they  were  all  in  tolerable  circumstances.  Some 
were  rich,  and  most  were  owners  of  the  lands  on  which 
they  lived.  Several  of  them  had  been  ministers  of  the 
Gospel.  Many  of  them  were  authors.  And  their  appear- 
ance and  manners  were  often  equal  to  those  of  the  best.  And 
some  of  them  could  hardly  be  excelled  as  public  speakers. 
Some  of  the  lady  speakers  were  the  best  I  ever  heard. 
After  mingling  in  such  society,  and  witnessing  such  a 
strange  breaking  up  of  "  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep  " 
of  thought,  and  fancy,  and  animal  passion,  it  is  hard  to  say 
what  might  not  take  place  in  the  world,  if  the  spirit  of  in- 
fidel reform  which  is  pervading  the  nations  should  become 
general. 

I  returned  to  my  home  neither  a  better  nor  a  wiser 
man.  But  I  was  full  of  thought.  I  had  been  afraid  that 
in  the  excitement  of  controversy,  and  under  the  smart 
of  persecution,  I  had  gone  too  far.  But  here  were  people 
who  had  gone  immeasurably  farther.  I  was  afraid  I  had. 
been  too  rash.  But  here  were  pleasant  looking  and  edu- 
cated people,  compared  with  whom  I  was  the  perfection 
of  sobriety.  And  the  sense  of  my  comparative  moderation 
quieted  my  fears,  prevented  salutary  investigation,  and 
prepared  me  to  go  still  farther  in  the  way  of  doubt.  New 
books  were  placed  in  my  hands,  all  favorable  to  anti-chris- 
tian  views.  I  got  new  friends  and  acquaintances,  and  all 
were  of  the  doubting,  unbelieving  class.  Several  of  them 
were  atheists,  and  insinuated  doubts  with  regard  to  the 
foundation  of  all  religious  belief.  Till  my  settlement  in 
America  I  had  continued  to  believe,  not  only  in  God,  and 


268  GET   INTO   TEOUBLE. 

providence,  and  prayer,  but  in  immortality ;  and  to  look  on 
Atheism  as  the  extreme  of  folly.  But  now  my  faith  in 
those  doctrines  began  to  be  shaken.  Instead  of  drawing 
back  from  the  gulf  of  utter  unbelief,  and  retracing  my  steps 
toward  Christ,  as  I  had  partly  hoped,  I  got  farther  astray  ; 
and  though  I  did  not  plunge  headlong  into  Atheism,  I 
came  near  to  the  dreadful  abyss,  and  was  not  a  little  be- 
wildered with  the  horrible  mists  that  floated  round  its 
brink. 

Thus  my  hopes  of  calm  and  quiet  thought,  and  of  a  sober 
reconsideration  of  the  steps  I  had  taken  in  the  path  of  doubt 
and  unbelief,  were  all,  alas  !  exjiloded,  and  the  last  state 
of  my  soul  was  worse  than  the  first. 

To  make  things  worse,  I  got  into  trouble  with  my  Chris- 
tian neighbors.  ■  My  alienation  from  Christ  had  already 
produced  in  me  a  deterioration  of  character.  I  was  not 
exactly  aware  of  it  at  the  time,  and  if  I  had  been  told  of  it, 
I  might  not  have  been  able  to  believe  it ;  but  such  was 
really  the  case.  The  matter  is  clear  to  me  now  j^ast  doubt. 
I  had  become  less  courteous,  less  conciliatory,  less  agree- 
able. I  had  discarded,  to  some  extent,  the  Christian  doc- 
trines of  meekness  and  humility.  My  temper  had  suffered. 
I  was  sooner  provoked,  and  was  less  forgiving.  I  was  more 
prompt  in  asserting  my  rights,  and  more  prone  perhaps  to 
regard  as  rights  what  were  no  such  things.  And  I  made 
myself  enemies  in  consequence,  and  got  into  unhapjiy  dis- 
putes and  ])ainful  excitements. 

I  imagined,  I  suppose,  while  in  England,  that  the  dis- 
turbers of  my  peace  were  all  outside  me,  and  that  when 
I  went  to  America  I  should  leave  them  all  behind  ;  but  I 
see  now  that  many  of  them  were  Avithin  me,  and  that  I 
carried  them  with  me  over  the  sea,  to  my  far-off  "Western 
home.  And  they  gave  me  as  much  trouble  in  my  new 
abode  as  they  had  given  me  in  my  old  one.  It  is  the  state 
of  our  minds  that  determines  the  measure  of  our  bliss.  As 
Burns  says, 

"  If  happiness  have  not  her  seat 
And  centre  in  the  breast. 
We  may  be  wise,  or  rich,  or  great, 
But  never  can  be  blest. 


STATE   OF  THE   HEART  THE   GREAT  THING.        269 

No  treasures,  nor  pleasures, 

Can  make  us  happy  long ; 
The  heart  ay's  the  part  ay 

That  makes  us  right  or  wrong." 

And  my  heart  was  out  of  tune,  and  tended  to  put  every- 
thing around  me  out  of  tune. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE   STORY   OF   MY   DESCENT   FROM    THE   FAITH   OF     MY 
CHILDHOOD,   TO   DOUBT   AND   UNBELIEF. 

My  parents  were  Methodists  of  the  strictest  kind,  and 
they  did  their  utmost  to  make  their  children  Methodists. 
And  they  were  very  successful.  They  had  eleven  children, 
ten  of  which  became  members  of  the  Methodist  Society  be- 
fore they  were  twenty  years  of  age ;  and  even  the  odd  one 
did  not  escape  the  influence  of  religion  altogether. 

I  was  a  believer  in  God  and  Christ,  in  duty  and  immor- 
tality, from  my  earliest  days.  And  my  faith  was  strong. 
Things  spiritual  were  as  real  to  me  as  things  natural. 
Things  seen  and  things  unseen,  things  temporal  and  things 
eternal,  formed  one  great  whole, — one  solemn  and  bound- 
less universe.     I  lived  and  breathed  in  a  spiritual  world. 

My  parents  were  rigorously  consistent.  They  were  true 
Christians.  They  not  only  talked,  but  looked  and  lived 
as  persons  who  felt  themselves  in  the  presence  of  a  great 
and  holy  God,  and  in  the  face  of  an  awful  eternity ;  and 
the  influence  of  their  godly  life,  and  daily  prayers,  and 
solemn  counsels  fell  on  me  with  a  power  that  was  irresisti- 
ble. 

If  the  doctrine  taught  me  in  my  early  days  had  been  the 
doctrine  of  Christ,  and  the  doctrine  of  Christ  alone,  in  a  form 
adapted  to  my  youthful  mind,  iha  probability  is,  that  I 
should  have  grown  up  to  manhood,  and  passed  through 
life  a  happy,  useful  and  consistent  Christian.  But  I  was 
taught  other  doctrines.  Though  my  father  and  mother 
taught  me  little  but  what  was   Christian,  doctrines  were 


270   EARLY  BELIEF.     BAD  THEOLOGICAL  TEACHING. 

taught  me  by  others  that  shocked  both  ray  reason  and  my 
sense  of  right.  I  was  taught,  among  other  things,  that  in 
consequence  of  the  sin  of  Adam,  God  had  caused  me  to 
come  into  the  world  utterly  depraved,  and  incapable,  till  I 
was  made  ov^er  again,  of  thinking  one  good  thought, 
of  speaking  one  good  word,  or  of  doing  one  good  deed. 
I  felt  that  I  did  think  good  thoughts,  and  that  I  had  good 
feelings,  and  that  I  both  said  and  did  good  things.  But 
this  I  was  told  was  a  great  delusion : — that  nothing  was 
good,  and  that  nothing  was  pleasing  to  God,  unless  it  came 
from  faith  in  Christ.  But  I  had  faith  in  Christ.  I  be- 
lieved in  Him  with  all  my  heart.  I  had  believed  in  Him 
from  the  first.  The  answer  was  that  I  had  believed  with 
a  common  kind  of  faith,  but  that  it  was  another  kind 
of  faith  that  was  necessary  to  salvation,  and  that  whatso- 
ever did  not  spring  from  this  other  kind  of  faith,  was  sin. 
And  I  was  given  to  understand,  that  if  I  thought  otherwise, 
it  was  because  of  the  naughtiness  of  my  heart,  which,  I  Avas 
told,  was  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately  wicked. 
What  this  other  kind  of  faith  was,  I  did  not  knoAv,  and 
could  not  learn.  I  was  then  told  that  the  natural  man 
could  not  understand  the  things  of  the  Spirit,  and  that  before 
I  could  understand  them,  I  must  experience  a  change  from 
nature  to  grace;  all  of  which  was  past  my  comprehension. 
I  was  then  informed  tliat  I  must  wait  till  God  revealed 
those  things  unto  me  by  His  Spirit.  But  this  made  the 
matter  no  plainer. 

I  was  further  taught,  that  I  was,  in  some  way,  answer- 
able for  Adam's  sin, — that  God  made  Adam  the  federal 
head  of  all  mankind,  and  that  all  were  bound  by  what  he 
did; — that  if  he  had  done  right,  all  would  luive  come  into 
the  world  pure,  and  good,  and  happy,  and  sure  of  eternal 
life;  but  tliat  through  his  sin,  we  were  all  born,  not  only 
utterly  depraved,  but  guilty  and  liable  to  eternal  damna- 
tion. 

Then  followed  strange  things  about  satisfaction  to  offend- 
ed justice,  trust  in  Christ's  merits  and  righteousness,  justi- 
fic^ation,  regeneration,  and  sanctification,  all  mysteries  as 
dark  to  me  as  night. 

Some  time  after,  I  found  in  my  Catechism  the  doctrine 
of  God's  absolute  and  infinite  fore-knowledge, — the  doc- 


PERPLEXITY   AND    MADNESS.  271 

trine  that  from  eternity  God  knew  who  should  be  saved 
and  who  should  be  lost.  This  gave  methe  most  terrible  shock 
of  all.^  ^  It  was  plain  that  my  doom  was  fixed  forever. 
For  if  it  was  certainly  foreknown,  it  must  be  unchangeably 
fixed. 

These  dreadful  doctrines  filled  me  with  horror.  They 
all  but  drove  me  mad.  For  a  time,  when  I  was  about 
eight  or  nine  years  old,  they  did  drive  me  mad.  They 
were  more  than  my  nature  could  bear.  I  felt  that  if  things 
were  as  these  doctrines  represented  them  to  be,  the  ways 
of  God  were  horribly  unjust.  And  as  I  could  do  no  other 
than  believe  the  doctrines,  my  whole  soul  rose  in  rebellion 
against  God.  I  supposed,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  I 
should  be  sent  to  hell  for  my  rebelliousness ;  still  I  rebelled. 
It  seemed  a  dreadful  thing  that  God  should  hang  one's 
eternal  destiny  on  things  that  were  not  in  one's  own  power. 
I  thought  that  if  people  could  not  do  all  that  God  required 
of  tliem,  He  ought  to  allow  them  to  fall  back  into  their 
original  nothingness.  My  mind  especially  revolted  against 
the  arrangement  which  God  was  said  to  have  made 
with  Adam,  and  the  terrible  consequences  entailed  there- 
by on  his  posterity.  To  bring  men  into  being,  and  force 
them  to  live  on  forever,  and  at  the  same  time  to  hang 
their  eternal  destiny  on  another,  or  on  something  beyond 
their  power,  seemed  dreadfully  unjust.  I  felt  that  every  man 
ought  to  be  allowed  a  fair  trial  tor  himself,  and  to  stand  or 
fall  by  his  own  doings.  And  nothing  could  make  me  feel 
that  I  was  really  answerable  for  the  sin  of  Adam,  any 
more  than  that  Adam  was  answerable  for  my  sins.  '  And 
how  God  could  impute  one  man's  sin  to  another,  Avas  }iast 
all  comprehension.  And  I  felt,  that  if  matters  were  man- 
aged as  they  were  represented  to  be,  the  government  of  the 
universe  was  not  right. 

But  supj)osing  that  God  had  a  right  to  do  as  He  pleased, 
and  not  knowing  that  He  was  so  good  that  it  was  impossi- 
ble that  He  should  ever  please  to  do  wrong,  I  suflered  in 
silence.  But  I  often  said  to  myself,  '  God"  does  not  deal 
fairly  with  mankind,'  and  my  feelings  towards  Him  were 
anything  but  those  of  love  and  gratitude.  So  far  was  I 
from  feeling  any  obligation  to  Him,  that  I  looked  on  my 
existence  as  a  tremendous  curse,  and  I  would  gladly   have 


272  SURVIVES   IT     ALL.      GETS   OVER   IT. 

consented  to  undergo  any  amount  of  torment,  for  any  length 
of  time  short  of  eternity,  for  the  privilege  of  being  allowed 
to  return  to  my  original  nothingness.  The  thought  that 
even  this  was  too  much  to  be  hoped  for, — that  it  was  fixed 
unchangeably  that  I  must  live  on  forever,  and  that  there 
was  bat  one  dark  path,  which  I  might  never  be  able  to 
find,  by  which  I  could  escape  the  unbounded  and  unending 
torments  of  hell,  darkened  all  the  days  of  my  early  youth, 
and  made  me  exceedingly  miserable.  Some  kind  of  blind 
unbelief,  or  a  partial  spiritual  slumber  at  length  came  over 
me,  and  made  it  possible  for  me  to  live.  But  even  then  my 
life  was  anything  but  a  happy  one. 

I  cannot  give  the  story  of  my  life  at  length  ;  but  I  after- 
wards got  over  the  difficulties  of  my  early  creed,  or  ex- 
changed the  blasphemous  horrors  of  theology  for  the 
teachings  of  Christ,  and  became  a  cheerful,  joyous  Christian, 
and  a  hajjpy  and  successful  Christian  minister. 

As  I  have  said  in  Chapter  fourteenth,  I  regarded  the  Bi- 
ble as  the  Word  of  God  from  my  early  childhood,  I  believed 
every  word  to  be  true,  and  every  command  to  be  binding. 
My  faith,  at  first,  rested  on  the  testimony  of  my  parents 
and  tc'achers,  and  of  those  among  whom  I  lived.  Every 
one  I  heard  speak  of  the  Book,  spoke  of  it  as  divine,  and 
the  thought  tliat  it  might  be  otherwise  did  not,  that  I  re- 
member, ever  enter  my  mind.  This  my  hereditary  faith 
in  the  Bible  was  strengthened  by  the  instinctive  tendencies 
of  my  mind  to  believe  in  God,  and  in  all  the  great  doc- 
trines which  the  book  inculcated. 

The  first  attempt  to  prove  the  divinity  of  the  Bible, 
of  which  I  have  any  recollection,  was  made  by  my  mother, 
while  I  was  yet  a  child.  What  led  her  to  make  the  attempt 
I  do  not  remember.  It  might  be  some  perplexing  question 
that  I  had  asked  her;  for  I  used  to  propose  to  her  puzzling 
questions  sometimes.  Her  argument  was, — 'Bad  men  could 
not  write  such  a  book,  and  good  men  would  not.  It  must 
therefore,  have  been  written  by  God.'  Anotlier  argument 
that  I  remember  to  have  heard  in  those  days  was, — '  No 
man  would  write  the  Bible  who  did  not  know  it  to  be 
true;  biHuuse  it  tolls  liars  that  their  portion  will  be  in  the 
lake  of  fire  and  brimstone.'  There  was  also  an  impression 
among  such  people  as   my  parents,  that  the  Bible  was  so 


FIRST  ARGUMENT   FOR   THE   BIBLE.  273 

good  a  book,  and  that  it  wrought  with  such  a  blessed  power 
upon  their  souls,  that  it  was  impossible  it  should  be  writ- 
tea  by  any  one  but  God.  The  last  had  probably  the 
greatest  effect  upon  their  minds.  Then  they  found  in  the 
Bible  so  many  things  in  harmony  with  their  best  affec- 
tions, their  moral  instincts,  and  their  religious  feelings, 
that  they  felt  as  if  they  had  proof  of  its  heavenly  origin 
in  their  own  souls.  I  came,  at  one  period  of  my  life,  to 
look  on  these  arguments  with  contempt.  And  it  is  cer- 
tain, that  to  give  them  much  force  with  men  of  logical 
habits,  they  would  require  qualification,  and  considerable 
illustration.  But  they  are  none  of  them  so  foolish  as  I 
once  supposed.  As  for  the  last  two,  they  are,  when  pre- 
sented in  a  proper  way,  unanswerable. 

There  was  another  argument  that  was  sometimes  used, 
namely, — that  though  the  different  portions  of  the  Bible 
were  written  by  persons  of  widely  distant  ages,  of  differ- 
ent occupations  and  ranks,  and  of  very  different  degrees 
of  culture,  they  all  aim  at  one  end,  all  bear  one  way,  and 
all  tend  to  make  men  good  and  happy  to  the  last  degree. 
This  is  a  great  fact,  and  when  properly  considered,  may  well 
be  accepted  as  a  proof  that  the  Bible,  as  a  whole,  is  from  God. 

What  effect  these  arguments  had  on  my  mind  in  my 
early  days,  I  do  not  exactly  remember,  but  the  probability 
is,  that  they  helped  to  strengthen  my  instinctive  and  he- 
reditary faith  in  the  divine  origin  of  the  Bible. 

This  my  instinctive  and  hereditary  faith  was  a  great  and 
beneficent  power,  and  would  have  proved  an  inestimable 
blessing,  if  it  had  been  preserved  unshaken  through  life. 
And  I  am  sorry  it  was  not.  I  have  no  sympathy  with 
those  who  speak  of  doubt  as  a  blessing,  and  who  recom- 
mend people  to  demolish  their  first  belief,  that  they  may 
raise  a  better  structure  in  its  place.  We  do  not  desti'oy 
our  first  and  lower  life,  to  prepare  the  way  for  a  higher 
spiritual  life.  Nor  do  we  kill  the  body  to  secure  the  de- 
velopment of  the  soul.  Nor  do  we  extinguish  our  natural 
home  affections,  in  order  to  kindle  the  fires  of  friendship, 
patriotism,  and  philanthropy.  The  higher  life  grows  out 
of  the  lower.  The  lower  nourishes  asid  sustains  the  higher. 
At  first  we  are  little  more  than  vegetables :  then  we  be- 
come animals  :  then  men;  and  last  of  all,  sages,  saints,  and 
18 


274  TRUE   BASIS  OF  RELIGIOUS   BELIEF. 

angels.  But  the  vegetable  nature  lives  through  all,  and  is 
the  basis  and  strength  of  the  animal ;  and  the  animal  na- 
ture lives,  and  is  the  basis  and  strength  of  the  human  ;  and 
the  human  lives,  and  is  the  basis  and  strength  of  the  spiri- 
tual and  divine.  And  the  higher  forms  of  life  are  all  the 
more  perfect,  for  the  vigor  and  fulness  of  those  by  which 
they  are  preceded. 

And  so  with  faith.  Instinctive  faith  is  the  proper  basis 
for  the  faith  that  comes  from  testimony.  And  the  faith 
which  rests  on  testimony  is  the  proper  basis  for  that  which 
comes  from  reason,  investigation,  experience,  and  know- 
ledge. And  in  no  case  ought  the  first  to  be  demolished  to 
make  way  for  the  second,  or  the  second  discarded  to  make 
way  for  the  third.  To  kill  a  tree  in  order  to  graft  on  it 
new  scions,  would  be  madness;  and  to  kill,  or  discard,  or 
in  any  way  to  slight  or  injure  our  first  instinctive  child-like 
faith,  to  graft  on  our  souls  a  higher  one,  would  be  equal 
madness. 

Our  instincts  are  inflxllible.  The  faith  to  which  they 
constrain  us  is  always  substantially  right  and  true,  and  no 
testimony,  no  reasonings,  no  philosophy,  ought  to  be  al- 
lowed to  set  it  aside.  Testimony,  and  science,  and  ex- 
perience, may  be  allowed  to  develop  it,  enlighten  it,  and 
modify  it,  but  not  to  displace  or  destroy  it.  It  is  a  divine 
inspiration,  and  is  essential  to  the  life  and  vigor  of  the  soul, 
to  the  beauty  and  perfection  of  the  character,  and  to  tlie 
fulness  and  enjoyment  of  life.  If  you  lose  it,  you  will  have 
to  find  it  again,  or  be  wretched.  If  you  kill  it,  you  will 
have  to  bring  it  to  life  again,  or  perish.  It  is  a  necessary 
support  of  all  other  faith,  and  a  needful  part  of  all  religion, 
of  all  virtue,  and  of  all  philosophy.  Skeptics  may  call  it 
prejudice;  but  it  is  a  kind  of  prejudice  which,  as  Burke 
very  truly  says,  is  wiser  than  all  our  reasonings. 

I  did  not  fall  out  with  my  instinctive  belief,  though  I 
did  not  know  its  value  ;  but  I  was  so  formed,  that  I  longed 
for  proofs  or  corroborations  of  its  truth.  I  wanted  to  be 
able  to  do  something  more,  when  questioned  by  doubters 
or  unbelievers  as  to  the  grounds  of  my  faith,  than  to  say, 
'  I  Jed  that  it  is  true ;'  or  to  refer  to  the  testimony  of  my 
parents  and  teachers ;  and  I  did  not  rest  till  I  could  do  so. 

I  had  a  dear,  good  friend,  Mr.  Hill,  a  schoolmaster,  a 


THE    SIMPLEST    FAITH    THE    BEST.  275 

local  preacher,  and  a  scholar,  who,  beltfeving  that  I  had 
talents  to  fit  me  for  a  travelling  preacher,  and  desiring  to 
prepare  me  for  that  high  office,  kindly  undertook  to  aid  me 
in  my  studies.  After  he  had  taught  me  something  of  Eng- 
lish grammar,  he  began  to  teach  me  Latin.  Wheja  he  had 
got  me  through  the  elementary  books,  and  exercised  me 
well  in  one  of  the  Roman  historians,  he  lent  me  a  copy 
of  Grotius,  on  the  truth  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  re- 
commended me  to  translate  it  into  English,  and  then  to 
translate  it  back  again  into  Latin.  '  It  contains  the  best 
arguments,'  said  he,  'in  favor  of  Christianity,  and  it  is 
written  in  pure  and  elegant  Latin  ;  and  by  the  course  I  re- 
commend, you  will  both  improve  yourself  greatly  in  Latin, 
and  obtain  a  large  amount  of  useful  religious  knowledge.' 

I  did  as  I  was  bid,  and  the  result  was  truly  delightful. 
I  found  in  the  book  proofs  both  of  the  existence  of  God, 
and  of  tlie  truth  of  Christianity,  which  seemed  to  me  most 
decisive.  When  I  had  got  through  the  book,  I  felt  as  if  I 
could  convince  the  whole  infidel  world.  By  translating 
the  work  first  into  English  and  then  back  into  Latin,  and 
repeating  my  translations  to  my  teacher  without  manu- 
script, I  got  the  whole  book,  with  all  its  train  of  reasoning, 
so  fixed  in  mind,  that  I  was  able  to  produce  the  arguments 
whenever  I  found  it  necessary.  I  could,  in  fact,  repeat 
almost  the  whole  work  from  beginning  to  end. 

I  can  hardly  describe  the  pleasure  I  felt  when  I  found 
that  my  faith  had  a  solid  foundation  to  rest  upon, — that 
after  having  believed  instinctively,  and  on  the  testimony 
of  my  parents  and  teachers,  I  could  both  justify  my  faith 
to  my  own  mind,  and  give  sound  reasons  for  it  to  any  who 
might  question  me  on  the  subject. 

I  afterwards  got  Watson's  Theological  Institutes,  which 
amplified  some  of  the  arguments  of  Grotius,  and  added 
fresh  ones.  Here  too  I  found  large  quotations  from  Howe's 
Living  Temple,  an  argument  for  the  existence  of  God 
drawn  from  the  wonderful  structure  of  the  human  body, 
and  considerable  portions  of  Paley's  work  on  Natural 
Theology.  About  the  same  time  I  read  the  Lectures 
of  Doddridge,  which  gave  me  a  more  comprehensive  view 
than  either  Grotius  or  Watson,  both  of  the  evidences  of  the 
existence  of  God,  and  those  of  the  truth  of  Christianity. 


276  EEADING   ON   THE    EVIDENCES. 

I  afterwards  met  with  Dwight's  Theology,  in  which  I 
found  a  number  of  things  which  interested  me,  though 
some  of  his  reasonings  seemed  mere  metaphysical  fallacies. 

I  next  read  Adam  Clarke's  Commentary,  where  I  found, 
besides  his  arguments  for  the  existence  of  God,  abundance 
of  quotations  from  Paley,  Ijardner,  Michselis,  and  others, 
on  the  credibility  of  the  New  Testament  history,  and  the 
truth  of  Christianity.  His  a  priori  argument  for  the  ex- 
istence of  God  seemed  only  a  play  on  words.  His  other 
arguments  were  much  the  same  as  Watson's. 

About  this  time  I  read  Mosheim's  History  of  the 
Church.  This  did  me  harm.  It  is  a  bad  book.  It  is,  in 
truth,  no  real  history  of  the  Church  at  all,  but  a  miserable 
chronicle  of  the  heresies,  inconsistencies  and  crimes  of  the 
worldly  and  priestly  party  in  the  Church,  who  perverted 
the  religion  of  Christ  to  worldly,  selfish  purposes.  The 
whole  tendency  of  the  book  is  to  put  tlie  sweet  image 
of  Christ  and  the  glories  of  His  religion,  out  of  sight,  and 
to  present  to  you  in  their  place,  a  distressing  picture  of  hu- 
man weakness  and  human  wickedness.  It  is  a  great  pity 
that  this  wretched  pretence  to  a  church  history  was  not 
long  ago  displaced  by  a  work  calculated  to  do  some  justice, 
and  to  render  some  service,  to  the  cause  of  Clirist. 

I  afterwards  read  works  in  favor  of  Christianity  and 
against  infidelity,  by  Robert  Hall,  Olinthus  Gregory,  Dr. 
Chalmers,  Lc  Clerc,  Hartwell  Home,  S.  Thompson,  Bishoj) 
Watson,  Bishop  Pearson,  Bishop  Porteus.  I  also  read 
Leland's  View  of  Deistical  Writers,  Leslie's  Short  and 
Easy  Method  Avith  Deists,  Faber's  Difficulties  of  Infidelity, 
Fuller's  Gospel  its  Own  Witness,  Butler's  Analogy,  Bax- 
ter's Unreasonableness  of  Infidelity,  and  his  Evidences 
of  Christianity,  Simpson's  Plea  for  Religion  and  the  Sa- 
cred Writings,  Ryan  on  the  Beneficial  Effects  of  Chris- 
tianity, Cave  on  the  Early  Christians,  the  Debate  between 
R.  Owen  and  A.  Campbell,  Scotch  Lectures,  G.  Campbell 
on  Miracles,  Ray's  Wisdom  of  God  in  Creation,  Constable's 
History  of  Converts  from  Infidelity,  Newton  on  the  Pro- 
phecies, Locke  on  the  Reasonableness  of  Christianity,  Nel- 
son on  the  Cause  and  Cure  of  Infidelity,  Priestley's  Insti- 
tutes of  Natural  and  Revealed  Religion,  Jews'  Letters  to 
Voltaire,  and   works  by  Beattie,  Soame   Jenyns,  West, 


THE  EFFECTS  NOT  ALL  GOOD.         277 

Lyttleton,  Ogilvie,  Addison,  Gilbert  Wjiii:efield  and  others. 
I  also  read  sermons  on  different  branches  of  the  evidences, 
by  Tillotson,  Barrow,  and  others.  One  of  the  last  and  one 
of  the  best  works  I  read  on  the  Evidences  of  Christianity, 
were  some  sermons  by  Dr.  Channing.  These  sermons  pre- 
sented the  historical  argument  in  a  simpler  and  more  im- 
pressive form  than  any  work  I  had  ever  read. 

This  reading  of  works  on  the  evidences  did  not  prove  an 
unmixed  blessing.  I  am  not  certain  that  it  did  not  prove 
a  serious  injury. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  the  works  I  read  weakened,  in  time, 
and  then  destroyed,  my  instinctive  and  hereditary  faith, 
and  gave  me  nothing  so  satisfactory  in  its  place.  They 
filled  my  mind  with  thoughts  of  things  outside  me,  and 
even  outside  Christianity  itself,  which  did  not  take  a  firm 
and  lasting  hold  of  my  affections.  They  seemed  to  take 
me  from  solid  ground  and  living  realities,  into  regions 
of  cold,  thin  air,  and  bewildering  mists  and  clouds. 

2.  In  the  second  place,  the  writers  disagreed  among  them- 
selves. They  differed  as  to  the  value  of  diflerent  kinds 
of  evidence.  Some  were  all  for  external  evidences,  and 
some  were  all  for  internal  evidences.  Some  said  there  was 
no  such  thing  as  internal  evidence.  '  The  very  idea  of  siicli 
a  thing,'  said  they, '  supposes  that  man  is  able  to  judge  what 
doctrines  are  true,  or  rational,  or  worthy  of  God  ;  and  what 
precepts,  laws,  institutions,  and  examples  are  right  and 
good ;  and  man  has  no  such  power.  Reason  has  no  right 
to  judge  revelation.  All  that  reason  has  a  right  to  do  is  to 
judge  as  to  the  matter  of  fact  whether  the  Bible  and  Chris- 
tianity be  really  a  revelation  from  God  or  not,  and,  if  it 
be,  what  is  its  purport.  As  to  the  reasonableness  of  the 
doctrines,  and  the  goodness  of  the  precepts,  reason  has  no 
right  or  power  to  judge  at  all.' 

Others  contended  that  miracles  could  never  prove  the 
truth  or  divinity  of  any  system  of  doctrines  or  morals  that 
did  not  commend  itself  to  the  judgments  and  consciences 
of  enlightened,  candid,  and  virtuous  men.  These  two  par- 
ties, between  them,  condemned  both  kinds  of  evidence. 

3.  Then  thirdly ;  some  used  unsound  arguments.  They 
used  arguments  founded  on  mistakes  with  regard  to  mat- 
ters of  fact.     Grotius,  for  instance,  based  two  of  his  argu- 


278  UNSOUND   ARGUMENTS. 

ments  for  the  existence  of  God  on  misconceptions  of  this 
kind.  '  That  there  is  a  God/  said  Grotius,  '  is  evident  from 
the  fact,  that  water,  which  naturally  runs  downward  to  the 
level  of  the  sea,  is  made  to  run  upwards  through  subter- 
ranean channels,  from  the  sea  to  the  tops  of  the  mountains, 
and  thus  supply  springs  and  streams  to  water  the  earth, 
and  supply  the  wants  of  its  inhabitants.'  But  the  waters 
are  not  forced  upwards  from  the  sea  to  the  mountains  in 
this  way  :  they  are  carried  to  the  hills  in  the  form  of  vapors. 

True,  the  evidence  for  the  existence  of  God  supplied  by  the 
conversion  of  water  into  vapor,  and  by  the  many  beneficent 
ends  answered  thereby,  is  as  real  and  as  convincing  a 
proof  of  God's  existence  as  any  evidence  that  could  have 
been  furnished  by  such  an  arrangement  as  that  imagined 
by  Grotius.  But  I  did  not  see  this  at  the  time ;  hence  the 
discovery  that  the  argument  of  Grotius  was  unsound,  had 
an  unfavorable  effect  on  my  mind. 

'  Again,'  says  Grotius,  '  it  is  plain  that  the  world  must 
have  had  a  beginning,  from  the  existence  of  mountains. 
For  if  the  earth  had  existed  from  eternity,  the  mountains, 
which  the  rains  and  floods  are  always  reducing,  washing 
down  particles  into  the  valleys  and  plains,  would  long  ago 
have  disappeared^  and  every  part  of  the  earth  would  long 
before  this  have  been  quite  level.'  Here  was  another  error. 
Grotius  was  not  aware,  it  would  seem,  that  there  are 
forces  continually  at  work  in  the  interior  of  the  earth 
making  new  mountains, — that  some  portions  of  the  earth 
are  continually  rising,  and  others  gradually  subsiding. 

4.  Several  of  the  arguments  which  I  met  with  in  Dod- 
dridge's great  work  I  found  to  be  unsound.  And  there 
were  others  which,  if  I  did  not  discover  to  be  fallacious,  I 
felt  to  be  unsatisfactory.  They  were,  in  truth,  as  I  after- 
wards found,  mere  metaphysical  puzzles. 

5.  Among  the  most  honest  and  earnest  works  on  the  evi- 
dences that  came  in  my  way,  were  those  of  Richard  Bax- 
ter. But  many  of  his  arguments  were  unsatisfactory. 
Among  other  things  of  doubtful  value,  he  gave  a  number 
of  ghost  stories,  and  accounts  of  witches  and  their  doings, 
and  of  persons  possessed  by  evil  spirits,  and  even  of  men 
and  women  who  had  sold  themselves  to  the  devil,  and  who 
had  been  seized  and  carried  away  by  him  bodily,  in  the 


AUTHOES   ATTEMPT   IMPOSSIBILITIES.  279 

presence  of  their  neighbors  and  friends.  w»^Thcn  some  of  his 
arguments  took  for  granted  points  of  importance  which  I 
was  particularly  anxious  to  have  proved.  Much  of  his 
reasoning  seemed  conclusive  enough,  but  when  sound  and 
unsound  arguments  are  so  blended  in  the  same  book,  the 
unsound  ones  seem  to  lessen  the  credit  and  the  force  of  the 
sound  ones. 

On  the  subject  of  the  evidences,  Baxter,  like  Grotius, 
was  behind  the  times.  His  works  might  be  satisfactory 
enough  to  people  of  his  own  day,  but  they  were  not  adapted 
to  the  minds  of  people  of  the  present  day. 

6.  The  works  of  Paley  and  Butler  gave  me  the  greatest 
satisfaction.  Paley,  both  in  his  Natural  Theology  and  in  liis 
evidences  of  Christianity,  seemed  to  be  almost  all  that  I 
could  desire,  and  I  rested  in  him  for  a  length  of  time  with 
great  satisfaction.  But  I  read  him  only  once,  and  I  ought, 
for  a  time  at  least,  to  have  made  him  my  daily  study,  and 
imprinted  his  work  on  my  mind,  as  I  did  the  work 
of  Grotius. 

7.  Many  writers  on  the  Bible  attempted  to  settle  points 
which  could  not  be  settled.  They  tried  to  make  out  the  au- 
thors of  all  the  books  in  the  Bible,  and  this  was  found  im- 
possible. Different  writers  ascribed  books  to  different  au- 
thors. The  Book  of  Job  was  ascribed  by  one  writer  to  Job 
himself,  by  another  to  Moses,  and  by  a  thiixl  to  Elihu.  The 
Book  of  Ecclesiastes  was  ascribed  by  some  to  Solomon, 
by  others  to  a  writer  of  a  later  age.  Writers  differed  with 
regard  to  the  authorship  of  many  of  the  Psalms  and  many 
of  the  Proverbs.  They  differed  with  regard  to  the  author 
of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  and  the  Book  of  Revelation, 
and  even  with  regard  to  some  of  the  Gospels.  They  mul- 
tiplied controversies  instead  of  ending  them,  and  in  some 
cases  made  matters  seem  doubtful  that  were  not  so. 

8.  The  writers  on  evidences  often  attempted  to  prove 
points  which  were  not  true,  and  which,  if  they  had  been  true, 
would  have  been  no  credit  to  the  Bible  or  Christianity. 
Some  of  them  spent  more  time  in  laboring  to  prove  that 
Christianity  taught  doctrines  which  it  did  not  teach,  than  in 
proving  that  the  doctrines  which  it  did  teach  were  '  worthy 
of  all  acceptation.'  Some  lefl  the  impression  that  Chris- 
tianity was  a  mass  of  vain,  improbable,  and  incomprehensi- 


280  WRITEP.S    ox     THE    EVIDENCES. 

ble  doctrines,  calculated  neither  to  satisfy  man's  intellect 
nor  his  conscience,  neither  to  renovate  his  heart,  nor  im- 
prove his  life,  nor  Increase  his  happiness.  Such  writers 
served  the  cause  of  infidelity  rather  than  the  cause 
of  Christ. 

9.  Some,  like  Hartwell  Home,  gave  so  many  rules  for 
interpreting  the  Bible,  and  required  such  a  multitude 
of  rare  qualifications  to  fit  a  man  for  being  a  Bible  student, 
that  they  left  the  impression  on  one's  mind  that  the  Book 
must  be  utterly  unintelligible  to  people  at  large.  And  they 
directed  the  attention  of  their  readers  so  much  to  matters 
of  little  or  no  moment,  that  they  lost  sight  of  the  matters 
which  the  Bible  was  specially  intended  to  teach  and  im- 
press on  men's  minds  and  hearts. 

10.  Many  dwelt  so  much  on  things  doubtful,  that  they  left 
the  Impression  on  the  minds  of  their  readers,  that  there  was 
little  or  nothing  but  what  was  doubtful.  They  busied 
themselves  so  much  in  answering  objections,  that  they  left 
the  impression  that  there  was  little  or  nothing  but  what 
was  open  to  objections.  They  had  so  little  to  say  about 
Avhat  was  true,  and  good,  and  glorious  beyond  all  question, 
that  they  left  people  In  doubt  whether  there  was  any 
thing  past  question  or  controversy  In  Christianity  or  not. 

11.  And  many  treated  the  subject  so  coolly  or  carelessly, 
that  they  abated  rather  than  increased  the  interest  of  their 
readers  in  religious  matters. 

12.  And  the  great  mass  of  writers  followed  one  another  so 
servilely, — they  wrote  so  much  by  rote,  and  so  little  from 
experience  or  real  knowledge,  that  all  seemed  cold  and 
formal,  uninteresting  and  unprofitable.  It  was  a  rare  thing 
to  come  across  a  writer  that  touched  the  heart,  or  even 
satisfied  the  judgment. 

13.  And  they  often  labored  hard  and  long  to  prove  points 
of  little  or  no  importance,  while  points  of  greatest  moment 
were  left  untouched,  or  handled  so  unskillfully  as  to  do 
harm  rather  than  good. 

14.  And  almost  all  had  unauthorized  and  unscriptural 
theories  of  Scripture  Inspiration,  which  it  was  impossible  for 
them  to  prove,  and  which  they  so  manifestly  failed  to 
prove,  that  a  critical  reader  could  not  but  see  their  failure. 
They  tried  to  justify  expressions  and  actions  which  could 


THEIE    FAULTS. 


281 


not  be  justified,  and  to  reconcile  diiierenoes  which  did  not 
admit  of  reconciliation. 

15.  Even  the  historical  arguments  of  Paley  and  Grotius 
consisted  of  so  many  particulars,  and  carried  one  so  far 
back  into  regions  with  which  one  was  so  imperfectly  ac- 
quainted, and  into  states  of  society  which  it  was  so  difficult 
for  one  to  realize,  that  it  was  impossible  they  should  have 
much  power  over  the  heart ;  and  the  little  they  had  was 
soon  lost,  when  their  books  were  laid  aside.  Even  when 
we  remenxbered  the  facts,  and  could  run  them  over  in  our 
^minds,  we  could  not  feel  the  force  of  the  argument  based 
on  them,  or  use  it  so  as  to  make  it  felt  by  others. 

The  historical  argument  drawn  from  miracles  never 
exerted  much  satisfying  power  on  my  mind  for  any  length 
of  time.  I  could  remember  that  it  had  satisfied  me  once, 
but  that  was  not  to  feel  its  satisfying  power  then.  And 
you  could  not  go  back  to  your  books  continually,  and  pore 
over  the  arguments  forever.  So  that  long  before  I  be- 
came a  doubter,  I  felt  that  the  historical  argument  could 
never  be  useful  to  people  generally,  either  in  producing 
faith  where  it  was  not,  or  in  perpetuating  it  where  it  was. 
I  was  sure  that  if  mankind  at  large  were  to  be  brought  to 
receive  and  cherish  Christianity,  it  must  be  by  proofs  of  a 
simpler  and  more  popular  kind,  which  people  could  feel, 
and  carry  along  with  them  in  their  hearts  as  well  as  in  their 
heads.  And  now  I  see  most  clearly  that  I  was  right. 
Miracles  had  a  use,  and  I  may  show  what  it  was  l)y  and  by ; 
but  it  was  not  the  use  to  which  they  have  been  so  often 
and  so  vainly  applied. 

16.  The  writers  on  prophecy  were  as  unsatisfactory  as  those 
on  miracles.  They  often  handled  the  prophecies  unfairly 
if  not  deceitfully.  They  treated  as  absolute  prophecies, 
prophecies  which  were  expressly  conditional.  And  they 
lost  sight  of  the  fact,  so  plainly  stated  in  Jeremiah  xviii, 
that  all  prophetic  promises  and  threatenings  are  conditional. 
Then  they  took  one  bit  of  a  prophecy  and  left  another : 
kept  out  of  sight  predictions  which  had  not  been  fulfilled, 
and  dwelt  exclusively  on  phrases  which  had  been  fulfilled. 

They  dealt  deceitfully  with  history  as  well  as  prophecy. 
They  made  or  modified  facts.  They  gave  fanciful  inter- 
pretations to  prophecies.  And  they  tried  to  make  prophecy 


282  THEIR    WittTCIIED    REASONINGS,    &C. 

prove  what  it  could  not  prove,  however  unquestionable  and 
miraculous  the  fulfilment  might  be.  The  manner  in  which 
Nelson  and  Keith  dealt  with  prophecy  was  often  childish, 
and  even  dishonest.  A  careful  examination  of  their  works 
left  a  most  painful  impression  on  my  mind. 

What  Albert  Barnes  says  about  much  of  the  reasoning 
of  preachers  and  divines  is  applicable  to  this  class  of  writers 
more  than  to  some  others.  '  A  great  part  of  the  reasoning 
founded  upon  prophecies  is  unsound.  Much  of  the  reason- 
ing employed  by  the  early  Christian  Fathers,  by  the  School- 
men, and  by  the  Reformers  had  no  intrinsic  force  :  it  was 
based  on  ignorance  and  error.  Yet  theologians  are  prone  to 
cling  to  it.  They  forget  the  age  in  which  they  live.  They 
linger,  they  live,  among  the  shades  of  the  past.  Their 
thoughts,  their  dialect,  their  way  of  reasoning  are  all 
of  other  days. 

'  The  quality  of  another  kind  of  reasoning  common 
among  divines  is,  that  it  is  not  understood  by  the  mass 
of  men,  and  that  it  does  not  seem  to  be  understood  by 
those  who  use  it.' 

17.  In  the  following  paragraph  he  speaks  important 
Vv'ords  about  tlicology  as  well  as  about  theological  reasoning. 

'  There  is  mucli  theology,'  says  he,  '  that  a  good  man 
cannot  preach.  It  would  shock  his  own  feelings;  it  would 
contradict  his  prayers;  it  would  be  fatal  to  all  liis  efforts 
to  do  good ;  it  would  drive  off  the  sinner  to  a  hopeless  dis- 
tance, though  he  had  begun  to  return  to  God ;  it  would  be 
at  war  with  tlie  elementary  convictions  which  men  have 
of  what  must  be  true.  Among  the  doctrines  of  this  the- 
ology are  those, — that  Christ  died  for  the  salvation  of  only 
a  part  of  mankind, — that  we  are  to  blame  for  Adam's  sin, 
— condemned  for  an  act  done  ages  before  we  were  born. 

'The  theology  that  should  be  preached  to  make  the  pulpit 
Avhat  it  should  be,  should  be  based  on  obvious  and  honest 
principles  of  Scripture  interpretation.  The  jireacher  is  the 
interpreter  of  a  book,  and  he  should  be  the  voice,  the  organ, 
of  its  true  and  natural  meaning.  Nothing  should  be  mis- 
quoted; nothing  should  be  perverted  or  misapplied.  His 
interpretation  should  be  seen  and  felt  to  be  in  harmony 
with  the  scope,  the  drift,  the  spirit,  the  aim  of  the  Bible. 
The  success  of  preaching  has  been  greatly  hindered  by  false 


INTERNAL   EVIDENCES   THE   BEST.  283 

principles  of  Biblical  interpretation.  In  iaterpreting  other 
books  men  have  gone  on  rational  principles ;  but  in  inter- 
preting  the  Bible  they  have  gone  on  principles  quite  ir- 
rational. They  have  sought  for  double  senses,  and  mys- 
tical meanings,  and  used  texts  as  proofs  of  doctrines,  that 
had  no  reference  to  the  doctrines  whatever.  Metaphors 
and  symbols  have  had  all  possible  meanings  forced  on 
them.  Infidels  and  men  of  the  world  are  approached  with 
arguments  that  are  little  less  than  insults  to  their  under- 
standings. They  are  disgusted,  instead  of  being  convinced. 
They  are  led  to  look  on  the  Bible  with  disdain.  They  are 
willing  to  remain  infidels,  rather  than  become  idiots.  One 
is  pained  and  sickened  that  such  a  multitude  of  im- 
pertinent and  inapplicable  texts  should  be  brought  as 
proofs  of  Christian  doctrine ; — texts  applicable  to  anything 
else  rather  than  the  points  under  consideration.  Even  Dr. 
Edwards  misuses  texts  of  Scripture  thus.  The  Bible  is  to 
be  interpreted  as  other  books  are.  Men  are  not  to  hide 
themselves  in  the  mist  of  a  hidden  meaning,  and  shock  the 
common_  sense  of  the  world.  Preachers  should  go  on  the 
supposition,  that  in  every  congregation  there  are  shrewd 
and  sagacious  men,  who  can  appreciate  a  good  argument, 
and  see  the  weakness  of  a  bad  one  :  men  who  can  appreciate 
a  good  sermon,  if  there  be  a  good  sermon  to  be  appreciated. 
For  such,  he  may  be  assured,  is  the  fact.' 

All  these  unwise  things  had  a  tendency  to  shake  my 
faith  in  writers  on  the  evidences,  to  lessen  my  interest  in 
the  subject,  to  abate  my  confidence  in  the  knowledge  and 
integrity  of  the  authors,  and  to  diminish  my  faith  in  the 
supernatural  origin  of  the  Bible  and  Christianity. 

18.  The  evidences  that  had  most  w^eight  with  me  were  the 
internal  evidences.  But  these  were  often  handled  in  an 
unsatisfactory  way.  The  greater  part  of  Soame  Jenyns' 
little  work  was  good,  as  far  as  it  went ;  but  it  went  only 
a  very  short  way.  It  took  a  step  or  two,  in  the  most 
difficult,  doubtful,  and  uninviting  part  of  the  road,  but  it 
left  the  vast  paradise  of  internal  evidences  unexplored,  and 
even  unapproached.  His  work  was  rather  an  apology 
for  Christianity,  proving  that  it  was  not  open  to  censure 
than  a  demonstration  of  its  incalculable  worth  and  ])OAver. 

I  did  not  myself  see  clearly  at  the  time,  that  the  adap- 


284  NEGATIVE   CRITICISM. 

tation  of  Christianity  to  man's  wants,  to  man's  nature,  and 
'its  tendency  to  promote  man's  temporal  as  well  as  his  spiri- 
tual welfare,  was  really  a  proof  of  its  divine  origin.  I  saw 
that  it  was  a  valid  answer  to  the  infidel  objection  that  it 
was  useless  or  mischievous ;  but  not  that  it  was  a  decisive 
proof  of  its  divinity.  Hence  though  I  employed  it  as  a 
refutation  of  infidel  charges  against  Christianity,  I  never 
pressed  it  further. 

And  though  I  got  at  length  much  larger  views  of  the 
excellency  of  Christianity  than  those  presented  by  Soame 
Jenyns,  I  saw  not  half,  I  saw  not  a  tenth  of  its  worth  and 
glory.  I  saw  not  -a  tenth  even  of  what  I  see  now.  I 
now  see  there  are  no  limits  to  the  excellency  of  Christianity, 
or  to  the  power  of  the  argument  supplied  by  its  glorious 
character,  in  proof  of  its  divinity. 

And  the  worth  and  excellency  of  Christianity  you  can 
carry  continually  in  your  mind.  They  present  themselves 
whenever  you  open  the  Gospels,  or  look  at  Jesus.  They 
move  you  whenever  you  think  of  the  happy  effect  Christian- 
ity has  had  on  your  own  hearts  and  lives.  They  come  to 
your  minds  whenever  you  look  on  the  prevailing  vices  and 
miseries  of  society,  which  result  from  a  want  of  Christiani- 
ty. They  touch  your  heart,  as  well  as  convince  your  judg- 
ment. But  I  neither  saw  them  in  their  true  light  nor  in 
their  full  extent  before  I  fell  into  doubt ;  so  that  they  Averc 
unable  to  make  up  for  the  deficiency  in  the  external  evi- 
dences, and  to  check  my  growing  tendency  to  unbelief. 

19.  There  were  other  influences  that  helped  me  down  to 
unbelief  Negative  criticism,  pulling  things  to  pieces  with 
a  view  to  find  faults,  to  which  our  modern  philosophers 
give  the  fine  name  of  Analysis,  tends  to  cause  doubt  about 
every  thing.  It  eats  out  of  one  the  very  soul  of  trutli,  of  love, 
and  of  faith.  It  tends  naturally  to  kill  all  our  good  instincts 
and  natural  affections,  and  to  render  not  only  religion,  but 
philosophy,  virtue  and  happiness  impossible.  The  Cartesian 
system  of  reasoning,  which  begins  by  calling  in  question 
everything,  and  which  refuses  to  believe  anything  without 
formal  proof,  is  essentially  vicious.  The  man  who  adopts 
it  and  carries  it  out  thoroughly,  must  necessarily  become 
an  infidel,  not  only  in  religion,  but  in  morals  and  philo- 
sophy.    And  he  must  become  intolerably  miserable,  and 


HOEEIBLE    EFFECTS.  285 

destroy  himself,  unless,  like  John  S.  MiH^,  he  can  find  out 
some  method  of  deceiving  himself. 

And  this  is  the  system  of  reasoning  now  in  vogue.  This 
vicious  system  I  adopted,  and  it  hastened  my  fall  into  un- 
belief as  a  matter  of  course.  Not  one  of  all  the  most  im- 
portant things  on  earth  admits  of  proof  in  this  formal  way. 
You  cannot  prove  your  own  existence  in  this  way.  You  can- 
not prove  the  existence  of  the  universe.  You  cannot  prove 
the  existence  of  God.  You  cannot  prove  that  there  are  such 
things  as  vice  and  virtue,  good  and  evil.  You  cannot  prove 
that  men  ought  to  marry,  rear  families,  form  governments, 
live  in  society,  tell  the  truth,  be  honest,  restrain  their  ap- 
petites and  passions,  or  abstain  from  treachery  and  murder. 
All  reasonings  in  favor  of  religion,  virtue,  society,  philosophy, 
must  rest  on  assumptions, — must  take  a  number  of  things 
for  granted, — must  take  for  granted  the  truth  and  goodness 
of  those  instincts,  sentiments,  and  natural  affections  which 
constrain  us  to  be  religious,  social,  and  moral,  independent 
of  argument.  All  reasoning,  to  be  of  any  use,  must  begin,  not 
with  doubt,  but  belief.  The  reasoning  that  begins  with  doubt- 
ing every  thing,  and  accepting  nothing  till  it  is  proved  by 
formal  argument,  will  end  in  doubt  of  every  thing  that  ought 
to  be  believed.  It  will  end,  not  only  in  Atheism,  but  in 
boundless  immorality,  and  in  utler  wretchedness  and  ruin. 
The  man  who  would  not  be  undone  by  his  logic,  must 
pity  Descartes  instead  of  admiring  him,  and  instead  of  fol- 
lowing him  go  just  the  contrary  way.  Descartes  made  a 
fool  of  himself,  or  his  method  of  reasoning  made  a  fool 
of  him,  the  very  first  time  he  used  it.  His  very  first  argu- 
ment was  a  fallacy  and  a  folly.  He  pretended,  first,  to 
doubt,  and  then  to  prove,  his  own  existence.  His  argument 
was,  'I  think;  therefore  I  exist:'  as  if  he  could  be  more 
sure  that  he  thought,  than  he  was  that  he  existed.  He 
took  his  existence  for  granted  when  he  said  '  I  think.' 

20.  Other  things  helped  on  the  horrible  change  that  was 
taking  place  in  my  soul.  I  got  a  taste  for  reading  a  differ- 
ent kind  of  works  from  those  which  I  had  been  accustomed 
to  read.  I  turned  away  from  works  on  religion  and  duty, 
and  began  to  read  the  works  of  the  critical,  destructive 
party.  I  turned  away  even  from  the  best  practical  writers 
of  the  orthodox  school,  such  as  Baxter,  Tilfotson  and  Bar- 


286  CHANGE   OF   ASSOCIATES. 

row,  and  read  Theodore  Parker,  Martineau,  W.  F.  Xev.-- 
man,  W.  J.  Fox,  and  Froude.  I  also  read  Carlyle,  Emer- 
son, and  W.  Mackay,  the  metaphysical  bore,  and  C.  Maekay, 
the  charming,  fascinating,  but  not  Christian  poet.  Tlieo- 
dore  Parker  became  my  favorite  among  the  prose  writers. 
His  beautiful  style  and  practical  lessons  had  already  recon- 
ciled me  to  his  harsh  expressions  about  the  Bible,  and  to 
his  contemptuous  treatment  of  miracles  ;  and  now  I  had 
degenerated  so  far  that  I  liked  him  for  those  very  faults. 

I  read  the  writings  of  the  American  Abolitionists,  all 
of  which  tended  to  draw  me  from  the  Church  and  the  Bible, 
and  to  bring  me  more  fully  under  skeptical  influences.  I 
began  to  look  more  freely  and  frequently  into  works  of  sci- 
ence, and  most  of  those  waged  covert  war  with  supernatu- 
ralism,  and  sought  to  bring  down  the  Bible  and  Christianity 
to  the  level  of  ordinary  human  thought.  All  ideas 
of  authority  in  books  and  religious  systems,  in  ecclesiastical 
and  social  institutions,  gradually  faded  away.  All  ideas 
of  superhuman  authority,  or  divine  obligation,  in  marriage, 
in  home,  and  in  family  life  vanished.  All  things  lost  their 
sacredness,  and  came  down  to  the  vulgar  level  of  mere  hu- 
man opinion,  or  of  personal  interest,  convenience,  or  plea- 
sure. 

21.  There  was  a  change  in  my  companions.  Those  who 
had  high  and  holy  thoughts  of  all  things,  and  whose  meat 
and  drink  it  was  to  do  good,  withdrew  from  me ;  and  men 
and  women  came  around  me  who  cared  only  for  earth  and 
self;  whose  talk  was  of  gain,  and  fashion,  and  self-indul- 
gence ;  and  whose  desire  it  was  to  silence  conscience,  and 
■  to  stifle  thoughts  of  duty. 

22. 1  ceased  to  pray.  I  had  already  given  up  family  prayer. 
I  now  gave  up  private  prayer.  I  gave  up  prayer  altogether. 
I  had  impulses  to  prayer,  but  I  resisted  them.  Prayer  was 
irrational,  according  to  the  new  philosophy,  and  must  be 
discarded. 

23.  And  praise  and  thanksgiving  went  next.  What  reason 
could  there  be  for  telling  an  all-wise  God  what  you  tliought 
of  Him,  or  how  you  felt  towards  Him?  And  besides,  it 
now  began  to  appear  that  God  had  not  been  so  very 
bountiful  as  to  deserve  either  high  commendation,  or  en- 
thusiastic thanksgiving. 


GOT   BETTER   OFF,    BUT   WAXED   WORSE.  287 

24. 1  had  fresh  work.  Politics  first  got  into  partnership 
with  my  religion,  and  then  turned  religi(5n  out  of  the  con- 
cern. And  politics,  severed  from  religion,  soon  become 
selfish,  and  even  devilish.  So  long  as  Christian  philanthro- 
py occupied  my  thoughts  and  feelings,  it  helped  religious- 
ness ;  but  when  it  gave  way  to  politics,  my  religiousness 
declined,  languished,  and  died. 

25.  I  began  to  indulge  in  amusements.  Chess,  drafts, 
cards,  concerts,  theatres,  and  feasting  asked  for  a  portion 
of  my  time  and  money,  and  I  gave  it  to  them.  I  began  to 
think  of  pleasure  more  than  of  usefulness ;  to  live  for  my- 
self rather  than  for  others;  and  the  higher  virtues  and 
religion  went  down  together. 

26.  My  position  improved.  I  passed  from  poverty  to  com- 
parative wealth.  This  helped  my  degeneracy.  I  had  more 
abundant  means  of  self-indulgence,  and  I  began,  though 
slowly,  timidly,  and  with  misgivings,  and  self-reproaches, 
and  occasional  fits  of  remorse,  to  use  them  for  selfish, 
worldly  purposes.  God  had  given  me  more,  so  I  gave  Him 
less.  Jeshurun  waxed  fat  and  kicked.  Jesus  knew  what 
He  was  saying  when  He  warned  people  against  the  dan- 
ger, the  deceitfulness,  of  riches. 

27. 1  was  often  uneasy  during  the  decline  of  religion  in  my 
soul,  but  philosophy  had  its  anodynes,  its  soothing  syrups, 
its  dreamy,  delusive,  spiritual  drugs.  It  could  flatter,  it 
could  cheat,  in  the  most  approved  fashion.  It  could  be- 
witch, intoxicate,  and  take  captive  the  whole  soul, — -judg- 
ment, conscience,  fancy,  everything. 

Satan  can  put  on  the  appearance  of  an  '  angel  of  light.' 
He  can  talk  religion.  He  can  talk  philanthropy.  He  can  . 
preach  the  most  beautiful  doctrines.  He  can  use  the  most 
charming  words.  At  the  very  moment  that  he  is  destroy- 
ing religion  and  virtue,  he  can  speak  of  them  in  the  high- 
est terms,  and  even  sing  of  them  in  the  sweetest  strains. 
He  can  talk  of  liberty  in  the  most  swelling,  high-sounding, 
and  fascinating  style,  while  all  the  time  he  is  making  men 
the  most  degraded  and  miserable  slaves.  He  can  lead  peo- 
ple, singing  and  dancing,  laughing  and  shouting,  through 
a  philosopher's  paradise,  to  a  purgatory  of  guilt  and  horror. 
And  all  the  time  he  will  preach  to  thetn  the  finest  doctrines; 
the  most  exalted  sentiments.     '  Religion  ! — everything  is 


288  THE    CRAFTY   DECEIVER. 

religion,  tliat  is  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  our  own 
nature,  that  is  suitable  to  our  position  and  relations,  that 
helps  our  brothers  or  our  families.  And  all  truth  is  religious 
truth.  All  science  is  divine  revelation.  All  laws  are 
God's  laws,  except  the  arbitrary  laws  of  men.  All  work  is 
divine  work,  if  it  be  according  to  nature.  All  useful  work 
is  religion.  Farming,  trade,  government,  are  all  religion. 
So  are  waking  and  sleeping.  They  are  all  divine  ordinances; 
they  are  all  divine  service.  All  good  work  is  worship. 
Singing  foolish  hymns,  reading  foolish  lessons,  preaching 
foolish  sermons,  offering  foolish  prayers,  in  unhealthy 
churches,  half  stifled  with  foul  air,  are  not  religion.  Reli- 
gion is  the  free  and  natural  utterance  of  great,  true  thoughts, 
of  good  and  generous  feelings,  of  nature's  own  rich  senti- 
ments and  inspirations.  The  flowery  fields,  the  shadowy 
woods,  the  lofty  mountains  are  nobler  places  of  worship  than 
the  dark  and  damp  cathedral ;  and  the  fresh  air  of  heaven 
is  a  diviner  inspiration  than  carbonic  acid  gas.  And  the 
sun  is  a  diviner  light  than  waxen  tapers,  explosive  lamps, 
or  oxygen-consuming  gas.  And  the  gorgeous  sun-tinted 
clouds  are  grander  and  more  beautiful  than  painted  win- 
dows !  God's  temple  is  all  space ;  His  altar ;  earth,  air, 
skies  !  His  ministers  are  sun,  moon,  stars ;  birds,  beasts, 
and  flowers.  Nature  is  God's  revelation  ;  the  true  Bible  ; 
written  in  an  universal  language;  speaking  to  all  eyes; 
needing  no  translation ;  in  danger  of  no  interpolation,  al- 
teration, or  mutilation.  Man  is  the  true  Shekinah, — the 
veritable  image,  the  real  glory,  the  true  revelation  and 
manifestation  of  God.  Man  is  the  saviour  of  man :  the 
teacher,  the  guide,  the  comforter  of  man.  Every  one,  male 
or  female,  is  a  servant,  a  minister  of  God.  All  are  priests. 
All  arc  kings.  The  truth  makes  us  free :  free  from  all  au- 
thorities, but  the  authority  of  God, — God  in  the  soul. 
Christ  is  our  brother,  not  our  master.  He  is  a  helper,  not 
a  ruler.  And  all  are  helpers  of  each  other.  All  are  saviours. 
All  are  Christs.  Inspiration  is  not  a  matter  of  time,  or 
place,  or  person.  It  is  eternal  and  universal.  It  is  in  all, 
and  it  endures  forever.  Every  good  book  is  a  Bible. 
Every  good  hymn  or  song  is  a  holy  psalm.  Purity  of  body 
is  holiness,  as  well  as  purity  of  mind.  Every  day  is  a 
sabbath,  a  holy  day.     Every  place  is  holy  ground.     The 


FINE   INFERXAL   PEEACHING.  289 

Church  of  God  is  the  human  race.  All  affe  God's  disciples, 
under  training  by  nature's  operations,  and  by  the  events 
of  daily  life.  The  earth  is  God's  great  school-house ;  man- 
kind are  one  great  school ;  God  is  our  chief  Master ;  the 
universe  is  our  lesson  book,  and  all  we  are  ushers  and  un- 
der teachers.  All  things  are  our  helpers,  not  masters; — 
our  servants,  not  lords.  They  are  made  for  us,  not  we  for 
them  ;  and  must  be  used  so  as  to  make  them  answer  their 
ends.  The  Sabbath  was  made  for  man  ;  not  man  for  the 
Sabbath.  Bibles  are  for  men,  not  men  for  Bibles.  Gov- 
ernments, churches,  authorities,  laws,  institutions,  customs, 
events,  suns,  moons,  stars,  systems,  atoms,  elements,  all  are 
made  for  man,  and  to  man's  interest  and  pleasure  they 
must  be  subordinated.  All  must  be  changed  to  meet  man's 
changing  wants.  Nothing  is  entitled  to  be  permanent,  but 
that  which  answers  beneficently  to  something  permanent 
in  man.  Man  is  lord  of  the  universe.  Man  is  lord 
of  himself.  Man  is  his  own  rightful  governor.  Man  is 
his  own  law.  His  nature  is  his  law.  Each  individual  man 
is  his  own  law.  Individualities  are  divine,  and  must  be 
respected  ;  respected  by  laws  and  governments.  Law  must 
yield  to  individuality ;  not  individuality  to  law.  Indi- 
viduality is  sacred.  The  individuality  of  the  individual 
is  his  life,  and  must  be  fostered.  It  is  a  new  manifes- 
tation of  God.  As  to  means  of  grace, — all  expressions 
and  interchanges  of  kind  feeling  are  means  of  grace. 
Shaking  hands  is  a  means  of  grace.  Free,  friendly  talk,  a 
concert  or  a  song,  a  social  ride,  a  family  feast,  a  social 
gathering,  a  pleasant  chat,  a  game  at  whist,  all  are  means 
of  grace.  All  are  holy  to  holy  souls.  All  are  pure  to  pure 
minds.  Eating,  drinking,  sleeping  are  all  divine  ordi- 
nances. Religion,  in  its  higher  and  more  enlightened  form, 
raises  our  views  of  all  things ;  makes  all  things  beautiful ; 
all  things  glorious.  It  does  not  bring  down  the  high  and 
holy;  but  lifts  up  all  things  to  a  divine  level.  It  dese- 
crates no  temple  ;  but  consecrates  the  universe.  It  breaks 
no  Sabbath ;  but  makes  every  day  a  Sabbath,  and  all  time 
one  lengthened  holy  day.  It  degrades  no  priest ;  but 
makes  all  men  priests.  It  does  not  bring  down  the 
high,  but  raises  the  low.  It  denies  not  heaven  ;  but 
brings  down  heaven  to  earth.-  Everywhere  is  heaven. 
19 


290  BEWITCHING   POETRY. 

God's  kingdom  is  an  universal  kingdom.  His  presence, 
His  throne,  His  glory,  are  everywhere,  and  heaven  is  all 
around  us  and  within  us.  The  universe  is  heaven.'  Thus 
spake  the  devil. 

And  now  came  in  his  progressive  poets '  to  give  those 
broad,  those  high,  those  rational,  those  philosophical  prin- 
ciples, this  theology  and  religion  of  advanced  humanity, 
this  Church  and  worship  of  the  future,  the  fascination 
of  their  ecstatic  genius,  and  all  the  charms  of  numbers, 
rhyme,  and  melody.  '  My  religion  is  love,'  sings  one,  '  the 
richest  and  fairest.'  '  Abou  Ben  Adhem,'  sings  another. 
'  He  loves  not  God  ;  but  loves  God's  creature  man.  Give 
him  a  place, — the  highest  place, — in  heaven.'  Another 
sings, '  The  poor  man's  Sunday  walk.'  The  advanced  re- 
ligionist, addressing  his  wife,  exclaims, 

The  morning  of  our  rest  has  come, 

The  sun  is  shining  clear ; 
I  see  it  on  the  steeple-top  : 

Put  on  your  shawl,  my  dear, 
And  let  us  leave  the  smoky  town, 

The  dense  and  stagnant  lane. 
And  take  our  children  by  the  hand 

To  see  the  fields  again. 
I've  pined  for  air  the  livelong  week ; 

For  the  smell  of  new-mown  hay  ; 
For  a  pleasant,  quiet,  country  walk. 

On  a  sunny  Sabbath  day. 

Our  parish  church  is  cold  and  damp  j 

I  need  the  air  and  sun  ; 
We'll  sit  together  on  the  grass. 

And  see  the  children  run. 
We'll  watch  them  gather  butter-cups, 

Or  cowsli])S  in  the  dell, 
Or  listen  to  the  cheerful  sounds 

Of  the  flxr-olf  village  bell ; 
And  thank  our  God  with  grateful  hearts. 

Though  in  the  fields  we  pray; 
And  bless  the  healthful  breeze  of  heaven. 

On  a  sunny  Sabbath  day. 


ALL   TENDING   TO     RUIN.  291 

I'm  weary  of  the  stifling  roora^ 

Where  all  the  week  we're  pent ; 
Of  the  alley  fill'd  with  wretched  life, 

And  odors  pestilent : 
And  long  once  more  to  see  the  fields, 
'  Ajid  the  grazing  sheep  and  beeves ; 
To  hear  the  lark  amid  the  clouds, 

And  the  wind  among  the  leaves ; 
And  all  the  sounds  that  glad  the  air 

On  green  hills  far  away  : — 
The  sounds  that  breathe  of  Peace  and  Love, 

On  a  sunny  Sabbath  day. 

For  somehow,  though  they  call  it  wrong, 

In  church  I  cannot  kneel 
With  half  the  natural  thankfulness 

And  piety  I  feel 
When  out,  on  such  a  day  as  this, 

I  lie  upon  the  sod. 
And  think  that  every  leaf  and  flower 

Is  grateful  to  its  God ; 
That  I,  who  feel  the  blessing  more, 

Should  thank  Him  more  than  they, 
That  I  can  elevate  my  soul 

On  a  sunny  Sabbath  day. 

Put  on  your  shawl,  and  let  us  go  j 

For  one  day  let  us  think 
Of  something  else  than  daily  care. 

Or  toil,  and  meat,  and  drink: 
For  one  day  let  our  children  sport 

And  feel  their  limbs  their  own  : 
For  one  day  let  us  quite  forget 

The  grief  that  we  have  known  : — 
Let  us  forget  that  we  are  poor ; 

And,  basking  in  the  ray. 
Thank  God  that  we  can  still  enjoy 

A  sunny  Sabbath  day. 

What  can  be  more  natural, — what  more  plausible, — 
what  more  rational, — what  more  pious  ?     Yet  it  means  for- 


292  THE   DECEIVER    USES   TRUTH. 

getfulness  of  God,  forgetfulness  of  Christ,  forgetfulness 
of  duty,  forgetfulness  of  immortality.  It  means  self)  and 
sin,  and  ruin.  And  so  it  is  with  a  multitude  of  other  sweet 
poems.  One  of  the  sweetest  singers  that  ever  received  a 
poetic  soul  from  God,  ignores  Christ  and  Christianity.  His 
works  are  full  of  truth,  but  it  is  truth  turned  into  a  lie, 
and  made  to  do  the  work  of  sin  and  death.  It  is  Satan 
clad  as  an  angel  of  light. 

Every  day  a  Sabbath,  means  no  day  a  Sabbath.  All 
places  holy,  means  no  place  holy.  All  things  worship, 
means  nothing  worship.  All  honest  labor  religious, 
means  no  labor  religious.  Freedom  means  license,  con- 
tempt for  virtue,  enslavement  to  vice.  Progress  means 
falling  back.  Elevation  means  degradation.  Liberality 
means  leniency  to  error  and  evil,  and  severity  towards 
truth  and  goodness.  In  short,  darkness  means  light,  and 
light  means  darkness  ;  good  means  evil,  and  evil  good  ;  bit- 
ter means  sweet,  and  sweet  bitter.  Reform  means  revolu- 
tion, and  renovation  means  degradation,  and  all  these 
charming  things  mean  wretchedness  and  ruin. 

We  must  not  be  understood  as  condemning  all  the  senti- 
ments uttered  by  the  great  deceiver.  INIany  of  them  are  true 
and  good.  They  are  Christian.  Satan  is  too  wise  to  ])reach 
unmitigated  falsehood.  He  understands  too  well  the  art 
of  using  truth  so  as  to  serve  the  ends  of  falsehood.  It  is 
enough  for  him  if  he  can  sever  men's  souls  from  Christ,  and 
truth  from  divine  authority,  and  religion  from  Christianity, 
the  Church,  and  the  Bible.  Allow  him  to  do  this,  and  he 
will  discourse  and  sing  to  you  a  world  of  sweet  words  and 
lofty  sentiments.  Truth  is  the  ladder  by  which  men  climb 
to  God,  and  goodness,  and  heaven.  But  Satan  has  found 
out  that  there  is  a  way  down  the  ladder  as  well  as  up,  and 
that  to  praise  the  ladder  to  the  descending  crowd  is  the 
surest  way  to  draw  them  ever  further  downAvard,  till  they 
lose  themselves  amid  the  blinding  smoke  of  the  abyss  be- 
neath. We  love,  we  cherish  every  sweet  word  of  truth, 
but  we  value  nothing  apart  from  God,  and  Christ,  and 
Religion. 

28.  It  is  a  bad  thing  when  people  are  taught  things  in  their 
youth  that  are  not  true.  They  are  sure,  when  they  become 
students,  if  they  are  honest  and  able,  to  find  out  the  errors. 


BIBLE   CONVENTIONS.  293 

and  to  lay  them  aside.  And  the  meroJiabit  of  detecting 
and  laying  aside  errors,  has  a  tendency  to  make  men  skep- 
tical. Now  I  had  been  taught  a  multitude  of  things  iu 
my  youth  that  were  not  true,  both  with  regard  to  the  doc- 
trines and  the  evidences  of  Christianity.  These  things  I 
detected  and  sot  aside  in  riper  years.  And  I  had  so  many 
things  to  set  aside,  that  I  came  to  look  with  suspicion  on 
almost  all  my  creed.  The  skeptical  tendency  got  too  strong 
for  my  habit  of  belief.  I  suspected  where  there  was  no 
good  ground  for  suspicion.  I  rejected  truth  as  well  as 
error.  I  held  in  doubt  doctrines  that  I  ought  to  have 
cherished  as  my  life.  Change  became  too  easy  ;  judgment 
too  hasty  ;  and  error  and  unbelief  were  naturally  the  result. 

It  is  especially  a  bad  thing  when  an  earnest  young  stu- 
dent sees  signs  of  carelessness  in  religious  writers  ;  a  readi- 
ness to  repeat  what  has  been  said  before ;  to  support 
what  is  popular,  without  endeavoring  to  ascertain  whether 
it  be  true  or  not.  It  is  still  worse  when  a  student  disco- 
vers in  religious  writers  signs  of  dishonesty  and  fraud.  I 
discovered  both.  I  saw  cases  in  which  false  doctrines  were 
passed  on  from  generation  to  generation,  and  from  writer 
to  writer,  without  the  least  attempt  to  ascertain  their  true 
character.  I  saw  other  cases  in  which  dishonesty  was 
manifest,  in  which  fraud  was  used,  in  support  of  doctrines. 
Old  creeds  were  allowed  to  remain  unaltered,  long  after 
portions  of  them  had  been  found  to  be  unscriptural;  and 
error  was  subscribed  as  a  matter  of  course.  The  result  was, 
a  distrust  of  everything  held  by  such  parties,  unless  it  was 
supported  by  the  plainest  and  most  decisive  proofs. 

29.  I  was  now  in  a  state  of  mind  to  go  down  quietly  and 
almost  unconsciously  into  utter  unbelief  And  I  went  down. 
I  did  not  reject  the  doctrine  of  the  divine  origin  of  the  Bible 
and  Christianity,  but  gradually  lost  it.  My  faith  died  a  na- 
tural death.  I  was  in  the  world,  and  became  a  worldly  man. 
I  mixed  with  unbelievers,  and  gradually  came  down  to  their 
level.  I  had  supposed  that  a  man  could  be  as  religious 
outside  the  Church  as  inside  ;  but  I  found  it  otherwise.  It 
was  a  sad,  an  awful  change  I  underwent ;  but  I  not  only 
did  not  see  it,  at  the  time,  in  its  true  light,  but  was  actually 
unconscious  for  a  long  time  that  it  was  taking  place. 

In  November  1852,  I  attended  a  Bible  convention  at 


294  HARTFORD    CONVENTION.      GARHISON. 

Salem,  Columbiana  County,  Ohio.  It  lasted  three  days. 
I  spoke  rejDeatedly,  and  at  considerable  length,  at  its  meet- 
ings. My  remarks  were  directed  chiefly,  not  against  the 
Bible,  but  against  what  I  regarded  as  unauthorized  theo- 
ries of  Scripture  inspiration.  I  contended  that  those  theo- 
ries were  injurious  to  the  interests  of  virtue  and  humanity. 

I  also  spoke  about  the  darkness  in  which  the  human 
authorship  of  portions  of  the  Bible  was  wrapt.  My 
remarks  were  a  mixture  of  truth  and  error,  but  in  their 
general  tenor  they  were  unjust,  and  could  hardly  fail  to  be 
injurious. 

Henry  C.  Wright  spoke  at  this  convention,  contending 
that  man  had  an  infallible  rule  of  life  engraven  on  his 
own  nature,  independent  of  instruction  from  without.  He 
was  often  severe  and  extravagant  in  his  remarks.  He  was 
fierce,  and  said  things  which  he  could  not  make  good. 

Tlie  Rev.  Jonas  Harzell  and  others  spoke  in  defence 
of  the  Bible. 

On  the  last  evening  the  hall  in  which  the  convention  was 
held  was  densely  crowded,  and  the  audience  was  greatly 
excited.  A  Mr.  Ambler  spoke  at  great  length,  and  seemed 
desirous  to  excite  the  people  to  violence  against  the  assail- 
ants of  the  Bible.  When  he  closed,  a  large  portion  of  the 
audience  seemed  bent  on  mischief.  I  rose  to  reply  to  Mr. 
Ambler,  and  soon  got  the  attention  of  the  audience.  Their 
rage  quickly  subsided,  and  at  the  close  of  my  address,  the 
people  separated  in  peace. 

In  June  1853,  I  attended  another  Bible  convention  at 
Hartford,  Connecticut.  I  was  appointed  President.  A. 
J.  Davis,  the  celebrated  spiritualist,  gave  the  first  address. 
It  was  on  the  propriety  of  free  discussion  on  religious 
subjects.  Henry  C.  Wright  spoke  next,  making  strong 
remarks  on  portions  of  the  Old  Testament.  I  followed, 
going  over  much  the  same  ground  as  at  Salem,  but  speak- 
ing with  more  severity  of  feeling.  My  heart  was  getting 
harder. 

The  Rev.  George  Storrs  replied.  He  set  himself  espe- 
cially to  answer  H.  C.  Wright,  and  he  spoke  with  much 
effect. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day,  W.  L.  Garrison  pro- 
posed six  resolutions,  bearing  partly  on  the  Bible,  and 


HIS     SPEECH.      A    MOB.  295 

partly  on  the  church  and  clergy.  The^f^were  very  strong. 
There  was  a  considerable  amount  of  truth  in  them,  but 
their  spirit  and  tendency  were  bad.  Parker  Pillsbury  fol- 
lowed with  a  speech,  in  which  he  praised  natural  religion, 
but  condemned  the  religion  of  the  church. 

In  the  evening  Mr.  Garrison  spoke.  He  spoke  with 
much  power.  He  dwelt  chiefly  on  what  was  called  the 
doctrine  of  i:)lenary  inspiration.  His  strength  was  in  the 
extreme  views  of  the  orthodox  theologians,  and  in  the  in- 
consistencies of  the  church  and  the  clergy. 

Mr.  Garrison  made  a  second  speech  on  the  fourth  even- 
ing, still  dwelling  on  the  theory  of  plenary  inspiration. 
Before  he  got  through  his  speech  the  meeting  was  dis-" 
turbed  by  a  number  of  theological  students,  from  a  college 
in  the  city.  They  threatened  mischief.  One  displayed  a 
dagger.  Confusion  followed.  Some  of  the  speakers  fled, 
and  others  were  alarmed.  I  kept  my  place,  but  soon 
found  I  had  the  platform  to  myself.  I  expected  more 
courage  from  my  skeptical  friends.  But  they  understood 
Judge  Lynch  better  than  I  did,  and  their  discretion,  under 
the  circumstances,  might  be  the  better  part  of  valor.  My 
rashness,  however,  ended  in  no  mishap.  And  the  only 
bad  effect  which  the  violence  of  our  opponents  had  on  me 
was,  to  increase  my  hatred,  perhaps,  of  the  church  and  its 
theology.  It  is  not  wise  in  professing  Christians  to  resort 
to  carnal  weapons  in  defence  of  their  views. 

In  December  1853,  I  gave  a  course  of  lectures  in  Phila- 
delphia. I  was  brought  to  the  city  by  the  Sunday  Insti- 
tute. The  object  of  the  lectures  was  to  show,  that  the 
Bible  was  of  human  origin,  that  its  teachings  were  not 
of  divine  authority,  and  that  the  doctrine  of  its  absolute 
perfection  was  injurious  in  its  tendency.  The  room  in 
which  I  lectured  was  crowded,  and  the  audience  was  much 
excited.  I  stated,  in  opening,  that  I  had  nothing  to  say 
against  anything  that  was  true  and  good  in  the  Bible, — that 
virtue  was  essential  to  man's  happiness,  and  that  I  had  no 
sympathy  with  those  who  rejected  the  Bible  because  it  re- 
buked their  vices.  I  was  sincere  in  these  remarks ;  but  my 
older  infidel  friends,  I  found,  regarded  them  as  intended  to 
deceive  the  unwary.  Many  of  them  were  grossly  immoral, 
and  hated  the  Bible  for  its  hostilitv  to  their  evil  ways. 


296  DISCUSSION  WITH    DR.    MC  CALLA. 

After  each  lecture  discussion  followed.  But  the  ability 
of  my  opponents  was  not  equal  to  their  zeal.  They  were 
often  ignorant  of  both  sides  of  the  question,  and  injured 
the  cause  they  sought  to  aid. 

These  lectures  led  to  a  public  discussion  between  me  and 
Dr.  McCalla,  a  Presbyterian  clergyman.  It  was  to  con- 
tinue five  nights,  but  ended  on  the  fourth.  We  met  first 
in  the  Chinese  Assembly  Room;  but  the  place  proving  too 
small  for  the  crowds  which  were  anxious  to  hear  the 
debate,  we  adjourned  to  the  large  hall. 

Dr.  McCalla  was  very  abusive.  He  was  so  intent  on 
calling  me  bad  names,  and  on  saying  savage  and  pro- 
voking things,  that  he  forgot  his  argument.  I  kept  to 
the  subject.  I  neither  abused  my  opponent,  nor  spent 
ray  time  in  answering  his  abuse  of  me.  I  reproved 
him  once  or  twice,  telling  him  how  unseemly  it  was  in  an 
old  man,  professing  to  be  a  disciple  and  a  minister  of  Jesus, 
to  show  such  a  spiteful  disposition,  and  to  utter  such  offen- 
sive words ;  and  then  went  on  with  my  argument.  The 
third  night  my  opponent  seemed  to  be  losing  his  reason.. 
On  the  fourth  night  he  was  literally  mad.  Loss  of  sleep, 
rage,  and  mortification,  seemed  to  have  brought  on  fever 
of  the  brain,  and  he  was  really  insane.  His  friends  were 
terribly  put  about.  Many  of  them  were  furious,  and  were 
plainly  bent  on  violence.  A  policeman  climbed  up  the 
back  of  the  platform  behind  where  I  was  sitting  and  said 
in  my  ear :  '  There's  mischief  brewing  :  you  had  better 
come  with  me.  Step  down  now  while  they  are  looking 
the  other  way.'  I  looked  for  my  overcoat  and  hat,  but 
they  were  gone.  Some  one  had  carried  them  off,  to  pre- 
vent me  from  escaping.  A  gentleman  who  had  seen  a 
person  take  them  away,  and  place  them  in  a  distant  corner 
of  the  room,  seeing  what  was  coming,  went  and  brought 
them  to  me,  and  I  at  once  slipped  over  the  back  of  the 
platform  to  the  floor,  and  accompanied  the  policeman. 
The  crowd,  intent  on  getting  towards  the  front  of  the  plat- 
form, had  left  a  vacant  sjiace  near  the  wall,  and  I  and  the 
policeman  got  nearly  to  the  door  of  the  hall  before  we  were 
observed.  But  just  as  we  were  passing  out  a  cry  arose, 
*He's  off!  He's  off!'  and  a  maddened  crowd  prepared  for 
pursuit.     When  we  got  into  the  street  the  policeman  said 


NARROW   ESCAPE   OF   A   FRIEND.  297 

hurriedly,  '  Which  is  the  way  to  your  lodgings  ?'  '  That,' 
said  I,  pointing  south.  '  Then  come  this  way/  said  he, 
'  quick ;'  and  he  pulled  me  north.  This  probably  saved  my 
life.  The  mob  kue^v  which  way  my  lodgings  lay,  and  as 
soon  as  they  got  out  of  the  hall,  they  hurried  south,  like  a 
pack  of  hounds,  roaring  and  furious.  I  was  soon  half  a 
mile  away  in  the  other  direction.  '  Where  shall  I  take  you  ?' 
said  the  policeman.  *  Do  you  know  any  one  hereabouts  ?' 
'  Take  me  to  Mr.  Mott's,'  said  I,  '  in  Arch  Street.'  We 
were  there  in  a  few  moments,  and  as  the  door  opened  to 
receive  me,  the  policeman  received  his  gi'atuity,  and  has- 
tened away.  In  fifteen  minutes  there  was  a  noise  in  the 
street.  Mr.  Mott  opened  the  door  and  looked  out,  when 
a  brickbat  passed  just  by  his  head,  and  broke  itself  to 
pieces  on  the  door-post,  leaving  its  mark  on  the  marble. 
He  had  a  narrow  escape.  He  closed  the  door,  and  after 
awhile  the  mob  dispersed,  and  all  was  quiet.  Thus  ended 
the  discussion  with  Dr.  McCalla. 

One  would  have  thought  that  after  such  an  experience 
as  this,  I  should  have  taken  care  to  keep  out  of  debates  on 
such  an  exciting  subject.  But  I  was  daring  to  madness. 
I  was  engaged  again  in  discussion  on  the  same  subject,  in 
the  same  city,  in  less  than  a  month. 

The  clergy  of  Philadelphia,  unwilling  to  leave  the  cause 
of  the  Bible  in  this  plight,  demanded  that  I  should  dis- 
cuss the  question  Avith  Dr.  Berg,  a  minister  in  whom  they 
had  great  confidence.  I  yielded  to  the  demand,  and  the 
discussion  took  place  in  Concert  Hall,  in  January,  1854. 

The  hall  was  crowded  every  night.  One  very  wet  and 
stormy  night,  the  number  present  was  only  2000,  but 
every  other  night  it  was  from  2250  to  2400.  A  Philadel- 
phia newspaper  of  that  period  says,  "  We  cannot  forbear  to 
notice  the  contrast  in  the  manner  and  bearing  of  tlie  two 
disputants.  Mr.  Barker  uniformly  bore  himself  as  a  gen- 
tleman, courteously  and  respectfully  towards  his  opponent, 
and  with  the  dignity  becoming  his  position,  and  the  so- 
lemnity and  importance  of  the  question.  We  regret  we 
cannot  say  the  same  of  Dr.  Berg,  who  at  times  seemed  to 
forget  the  obligations  of  the  gentleman,  in  his  zeal  as  a 
controversialist.  He  is  an  able  and  skilful  debater,  though 
less  logical  than  Mr.  Barker ;  but  he  wasted  his  time  acd 


298  DEBATE   WITH   DR.    BERG. 

strength  too  often  on  personalities  and  irrelevant  matters. 
His  personal  innendocs  and  offensive  epithets,  his  coarse 
witticisms  and  arrogant  bearing,  may  have  suited  the  vul- 
gar and  intolerant  among  his  party,  but  they  won  him  no 
respect  from  the  calm  and  thinking  portion  of  the  au- 
dience ;  while  we  know  that  they  grieved  and  ofi'endcd 
some  intelligent  and  candid  men  who  thoroughly  agreed 
with  his  views.  It  is  time  that  Christians  and  clergymen 
had  learned  that  men  whom  they  regard  as  heretics  and 
infidels  have  not  forfeited  all  claims  to  the  respect  and 
courtesies  of  social  life  by  their  errors  of  opinion,  and  that 
insolence  and  arrogance,  contemptuous  sneers  and  im- 
peachment of  motives  and  cliaracter  towards  such  men, 
are  not  effective  means  of  grace  for  their  enlightenment 
and  conversion. 

"  There  was  a  large  number  of  men  among  the  audience 
who  lost  their  self-control  in  their  dislike  of  Mr.  Barker's 
views,  and  he  was  often  interrupted,  and  sometimes  cheeked 
in  his  argument,  by  hisses,  groans,  sneers,  vulgar  cries,  and 
clamors,  though  through  all  these  annoyances  and  repeated 
provocations,  he  maintained  his  wonted  composure  of  man- 
ner and  his  clearness  of  thought.  On  the  other  liand.  Dr. 
Berg  was  heard  with  general  quiet  by  his  opponents,  and 
greeted  witli  clamorous  applause  by  his  friends." 

I  am  afraid  the  above  remarks  were  true.  Still,  Dr. 
Berg  was  almost  a  gentleman  compared  with  Dr.  McCalla, 
and  he  was  vastly  more  of  a  scholar  and  debater,  far  as  he 
was  from  being  a  model  disputant. 

Dr.  Berg  had  the  right  side  ;  he  stood  for  the  defence 
of  all  that  was  good,  and  true,  and  great,  and  glorious; 
but  the  way  in  which  he  went  about  his  work  was  by  no 
means  the  best  one.  He  took  a  wrong  position, — a  jjosi- 
tion  which  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  maintain.  His 
doctrine  was  that  the  ]3ible  was  absolutely  perfect, — that 
the  inspiration  of  the  Book  Avas  such  as  not  only  to  make 
it  a  fit  and  proper  instrument  for  the  religious  instruction, 
and  the  moral  and  spiritual  renovation,  of  mankind,  but 
such  as  to  preserve  it  from  all  the  innocent,  harmless,  and 
unimportant  weaknesses,  imperfections,  and  errors  of  re- 
generate and  sanctified  humanity.  He  even  contended  for 
a  kind  or  a  degree  of  perfection  which  many  of  the  most 


DR.  berg's  failure.  299 

highly  esteemed  professors  and  theologians  of  orthodox 
churches  had  relinquished.  He  held  to  views  about  the 
creation  and  the  universality  of  the  deluge,  which  orthodox 
Christian  Geologists  like  Professor  Hitchcock  of  America, 
as  well  as  Dr.  Pye  Smith  of  England,  had  given  up  as  un- 
tenable. He  contended  for  a  perfection  which,  in  fact,  is 
physically  impossible,  and  which,  in  truth,  was  inconsis- 
tent with  his  own  acknowledgments  in  other  parts  of  the 
discussion.  I  have  no  wish  to  disparage  my  opponent ;  I 
had  rather  do  the  contrary  ;  but  he  did  not  properly  and 
adequately  understand  the  great  question  which  he  under- 
took to  discuss.  Hence  he  got  involved  in  inextricable 
difficulties,  and,  in  spite  of  all  he  could  do,  his  attempted 
defence  of  the  Bible  was,  to  a  great  extent,  a  failure. 

He  said  a  many  good  things  about  the  Bible.  He 
proved  a  many  things  in  its  favor.  He  made  the  impres- 
sion, at  times,  that  there  was  something  in  its  teachings 
of  a  most  powerful  and  blessed  tendency ;  that  it  was  a 
book  of  infinite  value, — that  it  w^as  a  wonderful  teacher 
and  a  mighty  comforter, — that  it  had  done  a  vast  amount 
of  good,  and  was  calculated  to  do  a  vast  amount  more, — 
that  it  was  a  friend  and  patron  of  all  things  good  and 
glorious, — that  it  was  the  nurse  of  individual  and  national 
virtue,  and  the  source  of  personal,  domestic,  and  national 
happiness.  He  said  many  good  things  about  the  excel- 
lency of  Christ's  precepts,  and  the  beauty  and  glory  of  His 
example.  A  hundred  good  things  he  said,  both  in  favor 
of  the  Bible,  and  in  opposition  to  infidelity.  But  the  one 
great  point  which  he  had  pledged  himself  to  prove  he  did 
not  prove.  It  could  not  be  proved.  It  was  not  true.  So 
that  though  he  won  a  substantial  victory  ;  he  sustained  a 
logical  defeat.  And  if  he  had  been  twenty  times  more 
learned,  and  twenty  times  more  able  than  he  w^as,  he 
would  have  been  defeated.  If  a  man  attempts  the  impos- 
sible, failure  is  inevitable  ;  and  if  he  has  a  skilful,  wary, 
and  able  opponent,  his  failure  will  be  seen  and  felt,  even 
by  his  most  ardent  friends,  and  greatest  admirers.  And  so 
it  was  in  the  case  of  Dr.  Berg. 

But  the  error  was  not  his  alone ;  it  was  the  error  of  his 
friends  ;  the  error  of  his  patrons  ;  the  error  of  his  times. 
What  learning,  and  talent,  and  zeal,  and  skill  in  debate, 


300  QUALIFIED   VIEW   OF   THE    BIBLE. 

considerably  above  the  average  of  his  profession,  could  do, 
he  did  ;  and  that  was  a  good  deal  :  and  his  failure  was 
chargeable  not  on  himself,  so  much  as  on  the  faulty  theo- 
logy of  the  school  in  which  he  had  been  trained,  and  to 
which  he  still  belonged. 

So  far  as  the  general  merits  of  the  Bible  were  concerned, 
I  was  in  the  wrong.  But  the  fact  was  not  made  so 
plain,  so  palpable  to  the  audience,  as  it  should  have 
been,  and  as  it  might  have  been,  if  I  had  had  a  Aviser, 
a  warier,  and  an  abler  opponent,  and  one  who  had  no  false 
theory  of  Bible  inspiration  or  abstract  perfection  to  de- 
fend. .A  man  thoroughly  furnished  for  the  work,  and  free 
from  foolish  and  imauthorized  theories,  would  have  been 
able  to  give  proof  of  the  substantial  truth  and  divinity 
of  the  Scriptures,  and  of  their  transcendent  moral  and  spi- 
ritual excellence,  absolutely  overwhelming ;  and  I  do  most 
heartily  wish  I  had  had  the  happiness  to  encounter  such 
an  advocate  in  my  discussions.  It  might  have  proved  an 
infinite  advantage  to  me,  and  an  incalculable  blessing  to 
my  friends.  As  it  was,  the  debate  only  tended  to 
strengthen  me  in  my  unbelief,  and  to  increase  my  confi- 
dence in  future  controversies  with  the  clergy. 

How  I  answered  my  own  arguments,  and  got  over  my 
own  objections,  when  on  my  way  back  to  Christianity,  I 
may  state  hereafter.  All  I  need  say  here  is,  that  I  took  a 
qualified  view  of  the  divine  authority  of  the  Bible,  and 
of  the  doctrine  of  its  divine  inspiration, — a  view  in  ac- 
cordance with  facts,  and  with  the  teachings  of  Scripture 
itself  on  the  subject.  This  view  did  not  require  me  to  de- 
mand in  a  book  of  divine  origin  the  kind  of  abstract  or 
absolute  perfection  which  Dr.  Berg  required,  and  which  he 
so  rashly  undertook  to  prove.  On  the  contrary,  it  taught 
me  to  look  for  a  thousand  innocent  and  unimportant  errors 
and  imperfections  in  the  Bible.  A  thousand  things  which 
would,  if  proved,  have  been  regarded  by  Dr.  Berg  as  valid 
objections  to  the  doctrine  of  its  superhuman  authority  and 
divine  authority,  were  no  objections  at  all  to  mo.  I  could 
acknowledge  the  truth  of  them  all,  and  yet  believe  in  the 
substantial  truth  and  divinity  of  the  Book  as  a  whole. 
The  dust  and  mud  of  our  streets  and  roads,  and  the  de- 
caying timbers  and  rotting  grasses  of  our  forests  and  farms 


DR.    BEBG   MISTAKEN   IN   HIS   VIEWS.  301 

do  not  make  me  question  the  divine  origin  and  the  sub- 
stantial perfection  of  the  world :  nor  do  the  errors  and  im- 
perfections of  ancient  transcribers  or  modern  translators,  or 
the  want  of  absolute  scientific,  historical,  chronological, 
literary,  theological  or  moral  perfection  even  in  the  original 
authors  of  the  Bible,  make  me  doubt  its  divine  origin  and 
inspiration,  or  its  practical  and  substantial  perfection.  You 
may  show  me  ten  thousand  things  in  the  earth  which,  to 
multitudes,  would  seem  inconsistent  with  the  doctrine  that 
it  is  the  work  of  an  all-perfect  Ci'eator ;  but  they  would 
not  be  inconsistent  with  that  doctrine  in  my  view.  They 
would  probably  seem,  to  my  mind,  proofs  of  its  truth. 
Things  which,  to  men  who  had  not  properly  studied  them, 
appeared  serious  defects,  or  results  of  Adam's  sin,  would 
be  seen  by  me  to  be  important  excellencies;  masterpieces 
of  infinite  wisdom  and  goodness.  Many  of  the  things  I 
said  about  the  Bible  in  my  debate  with  Dr.  Berg  were 
true ;  but  they  amounted  to  nothing.  Dr.  Berg  thought 
they  were  serious  charges,  and  that  if  they  were  not  refu- 
ted, they  would  destroy  the  credit  and  power  of  the  Book. 
He  was  mistaken.  And  he  never  did  refute  them.  If  I 
were  in  the  place  of  Dr.  Berg,  and  an  opponent  were  to 
bring  forward  those  things  in  proof  that  the  Bible  was  not 
of  God,  I  should  say,  Your  statements  may  be  true,  or  they 
may  be  false,  and  I  do  not  care  much  which  they  are ;  but 
they  are  good  for  nothing  as  disproofs  of  the  divine  origin 
ami  practical  perfection  of  the  Bible.  The  Bible  is  all  it 
professes  to  be,  and  it  is  more  and  better  than  its  greatest 
admirers  suppose  it  to  be,  notwithstanding  its  numberless 
traces  of  innocent  human  imperfections.  The  sun  has  S])ots, 
but  they  neither  disprove  its  value  nor  its  divine  origin. 
The  probability  is,  that  the  spots  in  the  sun  have  their 
use,  and  would  be  seen,  if  properly  understood,  to  be  proofs 
of  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  Creator.  And  it  is 
certainly  plain  to  me,  that  what  you  regard  as  defects  in 
the  Bible,  are  proofs  both  of  its  divine  origin,  and  of  its 
real  perfection. 

I  said  some  things  about  the  Bible  in  my  debate  with 
Dr.  Berg,  which,  if  they  had  been  true,  would  have  proved 
that  the  Bible  was  not  of  divine  origin.  But  they  were  not 
true.     All  these  things  should  have  been  refuted  by  Dr. 


302  DEBATE  WITH  B.  GRAXT. 

Berg  with  great  promptness,  and  refuted  so  thoroughly  and 
plainly,  that  every  one  should  have  been  made  to  see  and 
feel  that  they  were  refuted.  But  they  were  not.  Some 
of  them  were  left  unnoticed.  Others  were  handled  un- 
skilfully. The  time  and  strength  that  should  have  been 
given  to  them  were  wasted  on  trifles,  or  unwisely  spent  in 
offensive  personalities,  unseasonable  witticisms,  or  attempts 
at  fine  speaking. 

The  objections  of  this  class,  which  my  opponent  failed  to 
answer,  or  answered  unsatisfactorily,  we  may  notice  fur- 
ther on. 

In  January,  1855,  while  over  on  business,  I  had  a  public 
debate  at  Halifax,  England,  with  Brewin  Grant,  a  congre- 
gational minister.  This,  so  far  as  its  impression  on  my 
own  mind  was  concerned,  was  the  most  unfortunate  discus- 
sion I  ever  had.  My  opponent  was  the  meanest  and  most 
unprincipled  or  ill-principled  man  I  ever  met.  In  a 
pamphlet  which  he  had  published,  giving  instructions  to 
those  who  were  called  to  defend  the  Bible  and  Christianity 
against  unbelievers,  he  had  laid  it  down  as  a  rule,  that 
their  first  object  should  be  to  destroy  the  influence  of  their 
opponents,  and  that  in  order  to  do  this,  they  should  do  their 
utmost  to  damage  their  reputation,  and  make  them  odious. 
He  acted  on  this  principle,  in  his  debate  with  me,  with  the 
greatest  fidelity.  He  raked  together,  and  gave  forth  in  his 
speeches,  all  the  foolish  and  wicked  stories  which  ■  my  old 
persecutors  had  fabricated  and  spread  abroad  respecting 
me,  except  those  about  my  having  committed  suicide,  and 
being  smothered  to  death,  and  some  others  which  were  so 
notoriously  false  that  they  could  no  longer  be  used  to  my 
disadvantage.  Those  stories  he  improved  by  making  them 
worse.     He  made  a  number  of  new  ones  also. 

I  had  published  a  book,  giving  the  story  of  my  life  up 
to  the  time  of  my  expulsion  from  the  Methodist  New  Con- 
nexion. This  work,  like  my  other  works,  was  written  in  the 
clearest  and  simplest  style,  so  that  no  man  with  ordinary  abi- 
lities could  fail  to  understand  it,  and  no  man  without  powers 
of  perversion  bordering  on  the  miraculous,  could  give  to  any 
part  of  it  an  objectionable  meaning.  This  book  he  took, 
and  read,  and  misread,  and  interpreted,  and  misinterpreted, 
so  as  to  make  the  impression  on  persons  unacquainted  with 


GRANT  S  SHAMELESS   BEilAVIOUE.  303 

it,  that  I  had  written  and  published  tf5e  most  foolish,  ri- 
diculous, and  in  some  cases,  really  discreditable  things 
of  myself,  and  even  false  and  unwarrantable  statements 
about  others. 

Before  the  discussion  came  on  he  gave  a  lecture  on  this 
book.  I  went  to  hear  it.  He  spoke  about  an  hour,  and 
every  quotation  from  the  work,  and  every  reference  he 
made  to  it,  was  false.  There  was  not  a  word  of  truth  in 
the  whole  lecture.  There  was  not  a  sentence  which  was 
not  as  opposite  to  truth  and  as  full  of  falsehood  as  he  could 
make  it.  And  the  ingenuity  he  displayed  in  his  task  was 
marvellous.  It  was  really  devilish.  He  enlarged  ray 
conception  of  the  evil  powers  of  wicked  men,  in  the  line 
of  turning  good  into  evil,  and  truth  into  lies,  beyond  all 
that  I  could  otherwise  have  imagined.  He  did  a  hundred 
things,  the  least  of  which  my  poor  limited  capacity  would 
have  deemed  impossible. 

He  pursued  the  same  course  in  the  debate.  He  went  as 
far  beyond  poor  McCalla,  as  McCalla  had  gone  beyond 
ordinary  sinners.  If  I  had  undertaken  to  correct  his  mis- 
representations, and  expose  his  fictions,  I  should  not  have 
had  one  moment  to  give  to  the  subject  we  were  met  to  dis- 
cuss. So  I  did  as  I  did  with  McCalla,  I  rebuked  the  man 
with  becoming  severity ;  I  contradicted  his  statements  in 
the  plainest  arid  strongest  way  I  could ;  I  also  offered  to 
arrange  for  a  discussion  of  personal  matters,  if  he  wished 
it,  after  we  had  gone  through  our  discussion  of  principles, 
and  engaged  to  prove  every  discreditable  story  he  told  of  me 
to  be  fdse,  and  then  went  on  with  the  discussion.  He 
accepted  my  challenge  to  discuss  personalities,  but  neither 
kept  his  engagement,  nor  abated  his  efforts  at  misrepresen- 
tation during  the  remainder  of  the  debate. 

He  was  not  content  with  sober,  sad,  deliberate  falsehood  ; 
he  resorted  to  ridicule.  He  pulled  comical  and  ugly  faces; 
put  out  his  tongue;  put  his  thumb  to  his  nose;  threw 
orange  peel  at  me;  and  said  and  did  other  things  which  it 
is  not  lawful  for  me  to  utter. 

He  had  thought,  I  suppose,  to  disgust  me ;  to  tire  me 
out ;  to  make  me  withdraw  from  the  debate,  and  give  him 
the  opportunity  of  saying  he  had  put  me  to  flight.  He 
was  mistaken.    I  kept  my  ground.  And  I  kept  my  temper. 


304:  HIS   MISERABLE     FAILURE. 

And  I  kept  my  gravity.  I  reljuked  him  at  times  with  be- 
coming sternness,  and  then  went  on  with  my  task.  It  is 
probable  that  I  spoke  more  strongly  against  the  Bible,  and 
that  I  said  harder  things  against  the  church  and  the  min- 
istry, than  I  should  have  done,  if  he  had  conducted  himself 
with  any  regard  to  truth  and  decency;  but  I  did  not  raise 
my  voice  above  its  usual  pitch,  nor  did  I  show  any  unusual 
signs  of  indignation,  disgust,  or  irritation.  My  feelings 
became  more  intense,  my  language  more  cutting,  and  my 
style  and  logic  more  pointed  and  forcible ;  but  my  manner 
was  calm,  and  my  behaviour  guarded. 

And  I  husbanded  my  strength.  I  let  him  explode, 
while  I  let  off  my  steam  quietly,  and  in  just  measure  only, 
making  every  particle  do  its  proper  work.  I  wasted  neither 
words,  nor  strength,  nor  time.  In  three  or  four  days  my 
wicked  opponent  began  to  get  weak  and  weary.  He  had 
tired  himself  instead  of  me.  He  had  disgusted  and  ])ut  to 
shame  many  of  his  friends.  He  had  driven  away  several 
of  his  supporters.  He  had  weakened  his  party.  He  had 
strengthened  his  opponent.  He  had  lost,  he  had  betrayed, 
his  cause.  He  dragged  on  heavily.  He  was  all  but  help- 
less. I  had  every  thing  my  own  way.  I  had  an  easy 
fight,  and  a  decisive  victory. 

I  had  the  last  speech ;  and  when  the  battle  was  over,  I 
felt  free  to  deal  with  my  unprincipled  opponent  rather 
severely,  and  I  said :  "  My  opponent  has  acted,  from  be- 
ginning to  end  of  this  debate,  in  anything  but  a  noble  and 
manly  way.  I  refer  not  merely  to  his  personal  abuse,  his 
use  of  foul  names,  his  insolence  of  manner,  his  malignity 
of  spirit;  but  to  the  way  in  which  he  has  misconducted  the 
argument.  He  was  pledged  to  prove  the  Bible  of  Divine 
origin  and  authority.  He  was  bound  to  bring  out, 
as  early  as  possible,  what  he  thought  his  strongest  argu- 
ments, and  afford  me  an  opportunity  of  meeting  them.  But 
he  did  not  do  this.  To  judge  from  his  proceedings,  you 
would  conclude  that  he  had  no  faith  in  any  of  the  jiopular 
arguments,  such  as  those  employed  by  l^iley,  Home,  &c. 
He  sat  watching,  like  an  animal  we  need  not  name,  for 
some  stray  thought  to  pounce  u})on.  He  tried  every  device 
to  draw  me  from  tlie  question,  and  showed,  not  only  the 
greatest  reluctance,  but  a  fixed  determination,  not  to  come 


HE   GETS   CASTIGATED.  305 

any  nearer  io  It  himself  than  he  could  possibly  help.     He 
has  shown  nothing  like  courage,  nothing  like  confidence  in 
the  goodness   of  his  cause,  nothing  like  openness,  candor, 
or  generosity ;   nothing   but  craft  and  cunning.     He  has 
never  fought  like  a  soldier,  but  dodged  like  an  assassin. 
Honorable  men  give  up  a  cause  that  can't  be  honorably 
maintained.     For  myself,  ye   are  witnesses,    I    came    out 
openly,  boldly,  and  at  once,  and  gave  my  opponent  the 
best  opportunity  he  could  have  of  grappling  fairly  with 
my  arguments.     But  he  would  not  meet  them.     He  slunk 
behind   his  mud-battery,   and   instead   of  firing  shot  and 
shell,   spurted   forth    filth.     By-and-by   he   took    my  old 
deserted  battery,  and  began  to  play  upon  me  with  my  worn- 
out  guns  and  wooden  shot,  till  his   friends  compelled  him 
to   give   up.     He   complained   that  I  had  taken  up  my 
position  on  Mount  Horeb,  and   pattered  him   with  grape- 
shot  from  the  old  Jewish  armory,  and  besought  and  urged 
me   to   plant   myself   on    Mount    Tabor,    or   the   Mount 
of    Olives,    and    try    what    I    could    do    with    Christian 
ammunition.     I  did  so  ;  but  even  that  did  not  please  him. 
He  stared  and  squalled,  as  if  it  had   been  raining  red-hot 
shot,  as  thick  as  it  once  poured  hailstones  and  fire  in  Egypt, 
killing  every  beast  that  was  out  in  the  fields.     And  thus 
he  has  gone  on.     He  never  seems  to  have  been  satisfied, 
either   with    his    own    position    or   mine.     I   might    have 
pleased  him,  no  doubt,  by  giving  in  before  the  battle,  and 
surrendering   at   discretion;   but  that   is  not  my  custom. 
Well,  now  the  battle  draws  near  its  close ;  and  no  one,  I 
trust,  has  lost  anything,  but  what  is  better  lost  than  found. 
I  am  satisfied  with  my  own  position,  and  nearly  so  with  my 
share  of  the  fight.     With  a  manlier  foe,  I  should  have 
had  a  pleasanter  figiit;  but  soldiers  cannot  always  choose 
their  antagonists,  nor  can   they  keep,  in  all  cases,  to  their 
own  best  mode  of  warfare.     The  hunter  cannot  always  find 
the  noblest  game ;  and  perhaps  it  is  better  for  his  neighbour, 
if  not  so  pleasant  to  himself,  that  he  should   sometimes  be 
obliged  to  employ  his  dogs  and  rifles  in  destroying  vermin. 
"  I  feel  that  an  apology  is  due  from  me  to  you  and  the 
public,  for  entering  the  lists  with  my  opponent.     It  is  soon 
given.     When  I  first  offered  to  meet  him  in  discussion  on 
the    Bible,    I   supposed    him    to  be  a   well-informed  and 
20 


306  HE   DESERVED    IT   ALL. 

respectable  man,  and  the  representative  of  the  highest 
intellectual  and  moral  culture,  combined  with  superior 
talent  and  experience  as  a  debater,  that  the  orthodox  world 
could  boast.  I  soon  found  out  my  mistake,  but  I  did  not 
feel  at  liberty  to  withdraw  my  challenge.  When  I  learned 
the  infamous  character  of  his  personaL  lectures,  I  declined 
all  further  correspondence  with  him  till  he  should  retract 
his  slanders ;  but  still  I  did  not  feel  free  to  say  I  would 
not  debate  with  him,  if  his  friends  should  bring  him  to 
reasonable  terms.  His  friends  in  Halifax  succeeded  in 
doing  so,  and  out  of  regard  to  the  wishes  of  my  friends,  I 
submitted  to  the  temporary  degradation  of  being  placed  on 
the  same  platform  with  my  unprincipled  calumniator,  and 
the  calumniator  of  the  best,  the  wisest,  and  the  greatest  men 
of  every  age  and  nation.     I  do  not  regret  having  done  so. 

"  He  will  leave  this  discussion  a  sadder  and  a  wiser  man. 
He  has  found  that  the  power  of  insolence,  and  falsehood, 
and  of  vulgar,  brutal  wit,  has  its  bounds;  that  there  are 
those  whom  they  cannot  abash  or  cow;  that  the  might  in 
moral  encountei's  is  with  the  right. 

"  I  part  with  my  opponent  without  malice,  though 
without  regret.  If  he  has  natural  characteristics  which 
others  have  not,  and  lacks  some  higher  qualities  which 
others  have,  the  fault  is  not  entirely  his.  He  did  not  make 
himself.  Nor  did  he  nurse,  or  rear,  or  train  himself.  He 
is  the  production,  and  his  character  may,  to  a  great  extent, 
be  the  production,  of  influences  over  which  he  had  no  con- 
trol. I  shall  not  therefore  state  all  I  have  felt  while 
listening  to  the  false  and  fierce  personalities  with  which  this 
discussion  has  been  disgraced.  I  will  rather  acknowledge 
my  own  errors,  and  lament  that  anything  he  lias  said  or 
done  should  have  been  permitted,  in  any  case,  to  affect  my 
own  style  of  advocacy,  and  render  me  less  gentle  or 
guarded  in  my  utterances  than  I  otherwise  might  have 
been.  I  retract  every  expression  of  unkindness  or  resent- 
ment. I  apologize  for  everything  harsh,  oifensive,  or 
ungraceful  in  my  manner;  and  I  am  sorry  I  could  not 
declare  and  advocate  my  views,  without  shocking  or  dis- 
tressing some  of  your  minds.  And  now,  with  best  and 
heartiest  wishes  for  your  welfare,  and  for  the  welfare 
of  mankind  at  large,  and  in  the  full  and  certain  hope  of  the 


HIS    UTTER    DISHONESTY.  307 

final,  universal,  and  eternal  triumph  of  th^  truth,  and  in 
the  ultimate  regeneration  and  salvation  of  our  race,  I  bid 
you  all  farewell.' 

This  man  purchased  the  copyright  of  the  debate,  and 
pledged  himself  to  issue  a  correct  edition,  in  accordance 
with  the  notes  of  the  reporter.  Instead  of  doing  so,  besides 
making  unlimited  alterations  in  his  own  speeches,  he  al- 
tered every  speech  of  mine.  Some  things  he  left  out.  In 
one  case,  to  prevent  an  exposure  of  one  of  his  more  reck- 
less mis-statements,  he  left  out  two  pages  of  one  of  my 
speeches.  By  a  free  and  artful  use  of  italics,  and  an  abuse 
of  stops,  he  altered  and  perverted  the  meaning  of  quite  a 
multitude  of  my  statements.  And  when,  after  all,  he 
found  that  the  publication  damaged  him  terribly  in  the 
estimation  of  his  friends,  he  suppressed  it  altogether. 

The  conduct  of  this  opponent  had  a  bad  effect  on  my 
mind,  and  if  anything  short  of  sound  reason  could  have 
kept  me  in  the  ranks  of  infidelity,  it  would  have  been  the 
shameless,  the  outrageous  conduct  of  such  pretenders  to 
Christianity  as  this  bad  man.  But  I  thank  God,  such 
horrible  and  inexcusable  inconsistency  was  not  allowed  to 
decide  my  fate.  Better  powers,  sweeter  and  happier  in- 
fluences, were  brought  into  play  to  counteract  its  deadly 
tendency.  And  even  other  opponents,  of  a  worthier  cha- 
racter and  of  a  higher  order,  came  in  my  way,  who,  by 
their  Christian  temper,  and  high  culture,  and  by  their  re- 
gard for  my  feelings,  and  their  manifest  desire  for  my 
welfare,  obliterated  the  bad  impressions  produced  by  the 
unscrupulous  and  malignant  conduct  of  Brewin  Grant,  and 
all  but  won  me  over  to  the  cause  of  Christ. 

It  happened  that  while  I  was  yet  in  England,  an  ar- 
rangement was  made  for  a  public  discussion  between  me 
and  Colonel  Michael  Shaw,  of  Bourtree  Park,  Ayr.  Colo- 
nel Shaw  was  a  kind  of  lay  minister,  who  preached  the 
Gospel  gratuitously,  and  spent  his  time  and  property  in 
doing  good.  He  was  a  Christian  and  a  gentleman  out  and 
out;  a  Christian  and  a  gentleman  of  the  highest  order. 
Five  such  men  might  have  saved  Sodom  and  Gomorrah, 
and  all  the  cities  of  the  plain.  He  was  as  guileless  as 
a  little  child,  and  as  honest  as  the  light,  and  about  as 
pure,  and  good,  and  kind  as  a  regenerated  human  soul 


308  A   TRULY   CHRISTIAN    OPPONENT. 

could  be.  This,  at  least,  was  the  impression  which  his 
looks,  and  conversation,  and  behaviour,  made  on  my  mind. 
He  not  only  commanded  my  respect,  but  called  forth  my 
veneration  ;  and  he  made  me  love  him,  as  I  never  did  love 
more  than  two  or  three  good  men  in  all  my  life. 

Well,  an  arrangement  was  made  for  a  public  discussion 
on  the  divine  authority  of  the  Bible  between  this  good  and 
godly  man  and  me. 

The  discussion  took  place  in  the  City  Hall,  Glasgow. 
The  Colonel  was  so  kind  and  gentlemanly,  that  I  found 
my  task  exceedingly  difficult.  It  was  very  unpleasant  to 
speak  lightly  of  the  faith  of  so  good  and  true  a  man  ;  or  to 
say  anything  calculated  to  hurt  the  feelings  of  one  so  guile- 
less and  so  affectionate.  And  many  a  time  I  wished  my- 
self employed  about  some  other  business,  or  engaged  in  a 
contest  with  some  other  man.  At  the  end  of  the  second 
night's  debate  we  Avcre  to  rest  two  days,  and  the  Colonel 
was  so  kind  as  to  invite  me,  and  even  to  press  me,  to  spend 
those  days  with  him  at  his  residence  near  Ayr.  The  Colo- 
nel had  given  his  good  lady  so  favorable  an  account  of  my 
behaviour  in  the  debate,  that  she  wrote  to  me  enforcing  her 
good  husband's  invitation.  I  went.  I  could  do  no  other. 
The  Colonel  and  his  venerable  father  met  me  at  the  sta- 
tion with  a  carriage,  and  I  was  soon  in  the  midst  of  the 
Colonel's  truly  Christian  and  happy  family.  Neither  the 
Colonel  nor  any  of  his  household  attem{)ted  to  draw  me 
into  controversy.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  that  was  cal- 
culated to  make  me  feel  uneasy.  There  seemed  no  effort 
on  the  part  of  any  one,  yet  every  thing  was  said  and  done 
in  such  a  way  as  to  make  me  feel  myself  perfectly  at  home. 
Love,  true  Christian  love,  under  the  guidance  of  the  high- 
est culture,  was  the  moving  spirit  in  the  Colonel's  family 
circle.  A  visit  to  the  birthplace  of  Burns,  and  to  the 
banks  of  Bonny  Doon,  was  proposed,  and  a  most  delight- 
ful stroll  Avc  had,  made  all  the  more  pleasant  by  the  Co- 
lonel's remarks  on  the  various  objects  of  interest  that  came 
in  view,  and  his  apt  quotation  of  passages  from  the  works 
of  the  poet,  referring  to  the  scenery  amidst  which  we  were 
moving. 

On  our  return  home  I  was  made  to  feel  at  ease  again 
with  regard  to  every  thing  but  myself.     I  felt  sorry  that  I 


HIS    WINNING   WAYS.  309 

should  be  at  variance  with  my  kind  and  at^oniplished  host 
on  a  subject  of  so  much  interest  and  importance  as  religion 
and  the  Bible.  The  thought  that  on  the  evening  of  the 
coming  day  I  should  have  to  appear  on  the  platform  again 
as  his  opponent,  was  really  annoying.  To  talk  with  such 
a  man  privately,  in  a  free  and  friendly  way,  seemed  proper 
enough ;  but  to  appear  in  public  as  his  antagonist  seemed 
too  bad.  When  we  started  from  Ayr  to  Glasgow  in  the 
same  train,  and  in  the  same  carriage,  I  felt  as  if  I  would 
much  rather  have  travelled  in  some  other  direction,  or  on  a 
different  errand.  But  an  agreement  had  been  made,  and  it 
must  be  kept ;  so  two  more  nights  were  spent  in  discussion. 
But  it  was  discussion, — fair  and  friendly  discussion, — and 
not  quarrelling.  Neither  he  nor  I  gave  utterance  to  an 
unkind  or  reproachful  word.  When  the  discussion  was 
over,  the  Colonel  shook  me  by  the  hand  in  a  most  hearty 
manner  in  the  presence  of  an  excited  audience,  and  pre- 
sented me  with  a  book  as  an  expression  of  his  respect  and 
good  feeling.  I  made  the  best  returns  I  could,  unwilling 
to  be  too  much  outdone  by  my  gallant  and  Christian  friend. 
The  audience,  divided  as  they  were  on  matters  of  religion, 
after  gazing  some  time  on  the  spectacle  presented  on  the 
platform,  as  if  at  loss  what  to  do,  or  which  of  the  dispu- 
tants they  should  applaud,  dropped  their  differences,  and 
all  united  in  applauding  both,  and  the  disputants  and  the 
audience  separated  with  the  heartiest  demonstrations  of  satis- 
faction and  mutual  good-will.  The  events  of  those  days, 
and  the  impression  I  received  of  my  opponent's  exalted 
character,  never  faded  from  my  memory.  And  though 
they  had  not  all  the  effect  they  ought  to  have  had,  their 
influence  on  my  mind  was  truly  salutary.  I  have  never 
thought  of  Colonel  Shaw  and  his  good,  kind.  Christian  fa- 
mily, without  affection,  gratitude,  and  delight.  He  wrote 
to  me  repeatedly  after  my  return  to  America,  and  his  let- 
ters, which  reached  us  w4ien  -we  were  living  among  the 
wilds  of  Nebraska,  were  among  our  pleasantest  visitants, 
and  must  be  reckoned  among  the  means  of  my  recovery 
from  the  horrors  of  unbelief. 

I  cannot  doubt  but  that  my  encounter  with  this  blessed 
man  did  much  towards  winning  back  my  soul  to  God,  and 
Christ,  and  the  Church.     This  gracious  man, — this  child 


310  CONTINUATION   OF   MY   STORY. 

of  light  and  love, — is  still  living,  and  he  continues,  when 
I  give  him  the  opportunity,  to  testify  his  love  for  me,  and 
his  good  wishes  for  my  health  and  welfare.  God  bless  his 
soul  ;  and  bless  his  household  ;  and,  after  having  given 
them  a  long  and  happy  life  on  earth,  receive  them  to  His 
kingdom,  to  share  together  the  riches  of  His  love  for  ever 
and  ever. 


CHAPTER  Xyil. 

CONTINUATION     OF    MY    STORY.       FRESH     TROUBLES.      A 

CHANGE   FOR   THE   BETTER.      HOW  BROUGHT  ABOUT. 

INCIDENTS.      THE   CHANGE    COMPLETE    AT 

LENGTH.      ITS   RESULTS. 

In  compliance  with  the  request  of  some  skeptical  neigh- 
bours, I  lectured  against  the  Divine  authority  of  the  Bible 
in  my  first  settlement  in  Ohio.  Mr.  Spofforth,  a  Metho- 
dist minister  was  induced  to  hold  a  public  discussion  with 
me  on  the  subject,  and  as  he  was  not  well  acquainted 
either  with  his  own  side  of  the  question  or  the  other,  he 
was  soon  embarrassed  and  confounded,  and  obliged  to 
retire  from  the  contest.  Not  content  with  the  retirement 
of  my  opponent,  I  announced  another  course  of  lectures  on 
the  Bible,  resolved  not  to  relinquish  my  hold  of  the  peo- 
j>le's  attention,  till  I  had  laid  before  them  my  thoughts  on 
tlie  exciting  subject  at  greater  length.  The  company  lis- 
tened to  me  for  a  time  with  great  patience,  but  while  I 
was  giving  my  last  lecture,  some  young  men  set  to  work 
outside  to  piill  down  the  log  school-house  in  which  I  was 
speaking,  and  I  and  my  friends  had  to  make  haste  out 
before  the  lecture  was  over,  to  avoid  being  buried  before 
we  were  dead. 

The  young  men  had  provided  themselves  plentifully 
with  rotten  eggs,  thinking  to  pelt  me  on  my  way  home ; 
but  the  night  was  very  dark,  and  the  way  led  through  a 
tall,  dense,  shadowy  forest,  and  somehow  they  mistook 
their  own  father  for  me,  and  gave  him  the  eggs,  When 
he  got  home  he  was  as  slimy  and  odoriferous  as  a  man 
need  to  be ;  while  I  was  perfectly  clean  and  sweet. 


^    peesh:  tkoubles.  311 

But  I  was  not  to  be  permitted  to  escape  in  this  way. 
During  the  night  they  pulled  down  the  fences  of  my  farm, 
and  gave  me  other  hints,  that  I  must  leave,  or  do  worse. 
So  I  sold  my  farm  for  what  I  could  get,  and  bought 
another  some  seventy  miles  away,  near  Salem,  Columbiana 
County,  a  region  occupied  chiefly  by  what,  in  America, 
were  called  "  Come-outers,^^ — people  who  had  left  the ' 
churches  and  the  ministry,  and  even  separated  themselves 
from  civil  organizations,  resolved  to  be  subject  to  no 
authority  but  their  own  wills  or  their  own  whims. 
Among  people  so  free  as  those,  I  thought  I  should  have 
liberty  plenty ;  but  I  soon  found  that  they  were  so  fond 
of  freedom,  that  they  wanted  my  share  as  well  as  their 
own,  and  I  got  into  trouble  once  more.  And  then  I  saw 
that  the  greatest  brawlers  about  liberty,  when  they  come 
to  be  tried,  are  often  the  most  arrant  despots  and  tyrants 
on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

Then  the  people  in  the  district  were  not  all  Come-outers. 
Some  were  Christians.  And  these  I  provoked  by  my  dis- 
regard of  the  Sabbath,  and  by  my  advocacy  of  views  un- 
friendly to  religion  and  the  divine  authority  of  the  Bible. 
I  worked  in  my  garden  or  on  my  firm  on  a  Sunday,  in 
sight  of  my  neighbors  as  they  went  to  church.  I  had  pre- 
viously called  a  Bible  convention  in  the  place,  and  taken 
the  leading  part  in  its  proceedings.  I  took  the  skeptical 
side  in  a  public  discussion  on  Christianity  in  the  town, 
and  gave  utterance  to  sentiments  which  pained  the  hearts 
of  the  religious  portion  of  my  neighbors  beyond  endu- 
rance. The  consequence  was,  I  got  into  trouble  again,  and 
had  to  move  once  more,  or  be  undone. 

So  I  moved  once  more.  This  time  I  resolved  to  make 
sure  of  a  quiet  home,  so  I  went  right  away  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  States,  into  the  unpeopled  territory  of  Ne- 
braska, a  country  at  that  period  ten  or  twelve  times  as 
large  as  Pennsylvania  or  England,  and  containing  less 
than  five  thousand  white  inhabitants — an  immense  wilder- 
ness, occupied  chiefly  by  tribes  of  red  Indians,  herds 
of  bufialo  and  deer,  countless  multitudes  of  wolves,  with 
here  and  there  a  bear,  a  panther,  or  a  catamount,  and 
heaps  of  rattlesnakes.  And  here  I  thought  I  should  be 
safe.     And  so  I  was.     The  Indians  gave  me  no  trouble. 


312  OUT    IN    THE    QUEAT    DESIj^T. 

I  always  treated  them  kindly,  and  they  were  kind  to  me 
in  return.  As  for  the  wild  beasts,  God  has  "  put  the  fear 
and  dread  of  man  upon  every  beast  of  the  earth ;"  and  as 
he  approaches,  they  retire.  As  a  rule,  the  fiercest  beasts 
of  the  forest  will  turn  aside  to  make  way  for  man.  I  have 
lived  in  the  midst  of  multitudes  of  wolves,  and  taken  no 
harm.  I  have  slept  on  the  open  prairie  in  regions  swarm- 
ing with  wolves,  and  nev^er  been  disturbed.  I  have  tra- 
velled by  night  in  other  parts  of  the  country,  over  the 
wildest  mountains,  the  homes  of  panthers,  bears,  and  cata- 
mounts, and  never  been  molested.  The  rattlesnakes  were 
the  most  dangerous  creatures.  Yet  even  from  them  I  took 
no  harm.  I  have  walked  among  them  time  after  time  in 
slippers  or  low  shoes,  yet  I  never  was  bitten.  I  slept  once 
for  three  nights  with  a  rattlesnake  within  two  or  three 
inches  of  my  breast,  yet  escaped  unhurt.  God  took  care 
of  me,  when  I  neither  took  due  care  of  myself,  nor  cared 
as  I  ought  for  Him. 

The  parties  I  feared  the  most  were  the  white  people. 
They  had  heard  of  me,  and  as  they  passed  me  in  the 
street,  they  looked  at  me  askance,  regarding  me  apparently 
as  a  mystery  or  a  monster.  But  I  never  shocked  them  by 
skeptical  lectures,  or  by  any  other  act  of  hostility  to  religion, 
so  they  bore  with  me,  and  came  at  length  to  treat  me  with 
respect  and  confidence.  My  wife  and  family  were  regarded. 
^vith  flivor  from  the  first.  And  I  shall  never  forget  the 
kindness  of  one  of  our  Christian  neighbors  to  my  wife,  in  a 
time  of  affliction  and  sorrow. 

And  it  is  from  my  settlement  in  this  desolate  and  far- 
off  region,  that  I  date  the  commencement  of  a  change  for 
tlic  better  in  the  state  of  my  mind.  I  do  not  say  that 
niy  opinions  began  to  change,  but  the  state  of  my  fceUngs 
got  better,  which  rendered  possible  a  change  for  the  better 
in  my  sentiments. 

But  I  had  reached  a  sad  extreme.  I  had  lost  all  trust 
in  a  Fatherly  God,  and  all  good  hope  of  a  better  life.  I 
had  come  near  to  the  horrors  of  utter  Atheism.  And 
the  universe  had  become  an  appalling  and  inexplicable  mys- 
tery. And  the  world  had  come  to  be  a  dreary  habitation  ; 
and  life  a  weary  affiiir  ;  and  many  a  time  I  wished  I  had 
never  been  born.     And  there  wore  occasions  when  the  dark 


CHANGE    FOR   THE    BETTER.  313 

suggestion  came,  "  Life  is  a  burden ;  throw  it  down."  But 
I  said ;  "  Nay  ;  there  are  my  wife  and  children  :  I  will 
live  for  their  sakes  if  for  nothing  else."  And  for  their 
sakes  I  did  live,  thank  God,  till  I  had  something  else  to 
live  for. 

If  I  were  asked  what  first  gave  a  check  to  my  skepticism, 
and  led  me  to  turn  my  face  once  more  towards  Christ  and 
Christianity,  I  should  say,  "  The  answer  is  sujiplied  by  my 
story."  As  I  have  shown,  it  was  the  troubled  state  of  my 
mind, — the  tempest  of  unhappy  feeling,  and  the  whirlwind 
of  excitement  in  which  I  had  lived  so  long, — that  had 
most  to  do  in  carrying  me  aAvay  from  Christ ;  and  now  my 
mind  was  allowed  to  be  at  rest.  The  whirlwind  of  excite- 
ment had  spent  its  fury.  The  tempest  in  my  soul  had 
subsided,  so  that  the  principal  hindrance  to  my  return  was 
gone.  There  were  other  causes  that  had  contributed  to 
the  destruction  of  my  faith  in  Christ  and  Christianity,  but 
this  was  the  first  and  chief  one,  and  the  one  which  gave 
the  principal  part  of  their  force  to  the  rest.  As  I  have 
shown,  I  had  been  taught  things  about  the  Scriptures  that 
were  not  correct.  I  had  found  a  number  of  the  arguments 
used  by  divines  in  support  of  the  divinity  of  the  Scriptures 
to  be  unsound.  I  had  detected  pious  frauds  in  the  writings 
of  some  of  the  advocates  of  the  Bible  and  Christianity.  I 
had  met  with  untenable  views  on  the  inspiration  and  in- 
fallibility of  the  Scriptures.  I  had,  besides,  adopted  a  de- 
fective method  of  reasoning  on  religious  matters,  which 
exerted  an  injurious  influence  on  my  mind.  All  these 
things,  and  many  others  which  I  cannot  at  present  men- 
tion, had  proved  occasions  of  doubt  and  unbelief.  But 
the  probability  is,  that  none  of  these  things  would  have 
destroyed  my  faith  in  Christ,  if  I  had  been  in  a  proper 
state  of  mind.  There  was  nothing  in  them  to  justify  unbe- 
lief to  a  mind  unprejudiced,  undistempered,  calm.  There 
was  attractiveness  enough  in  Christ,  if  the  mists  which 
passion  had  thrown  around  Him,  to  hide  His  worth  and 
glory  from  my  view,  could  be  cleared  away.  And  there 
was  truth  and  goodness  enough  in  Christianity,  and  there 
were  evidences  sufficient  of  its  divinity,  if  one  could  have 
the  films  removed  from  one's  eyes,  and  be  permitted  to  be- 
hold it  in  its  own  sweet  lio;ht.     The  p-reat  difficulty  was 


314  CAUSES   OF    THE   CHANGE. 

in  the  disordered  state  of  my  mind,  and  the  trying  nature 
of  my  situation.  What  was  wanted,  therefore,  to  make  it 
possible  for  me  to  return  to  my  former  faith,  was  not  so 
much  an  explanation  of  particular  difficulties,  as  a  better, 
happier,  calmer  state  of  mind.  Explanations  of  difficulties 
were  desirable,  but  they  were  not  the  first  or  prin- 
cipal things  required.  The  great,  the  one  thing  needful, 
at  the  outset,  was  a  fitting  state  of  mind, — a  mind  suf- 
ficiently free  from  irritation,  painful  excitement,  and  con- 
sequent unhappy  bias,  to  enable  me  to  do  justice  to  the 
religion  of  Christ.  And  the  circumstances  in  which  I  was 
placed  in  Nebraska  were  calculated  to  bring  me  to  this 
desirable  state  of  mind;  and  many  things  which  befel  me 
there  were  calculated  to  stimulate  my  return  to  Christ. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  I  Avas  in  a  region  favorable  to  calm 
and  serious  thought.  True,  we  were  infected  for  a  time 
with  the  fever  of  speculation  so  prevalent  in  new  countries; 
and  we  shared  the  hardships  and  toils,  the  cares  and  anxie- 
ties, of  a  border  life  :  but  there  were  seasons  when  serious 
thouglit  and  salutary  reflection  were  inevitable.  I  was 
often  alone  amid  the  quiet  and  solemnity  of  a  boundless 
wilderness.  The  busy  world  of  men  was  far  away.  There 
was  no  one  near  to  foster  doubt  or  unbelief,  or  to  reopen  or 
irritate  afresh  the  closing  wounds  inflicted  by  bigotry  and 
intolerance  in  days  gone  by.  And  the  loneliness  of  my 
condition  seemed  to  bring  me  nearer  to  God.  It  allowed 
the  revival  of  those  God  ward -tending  instincts  implanted 
in  man's  heart  by  the  hand  of  the  Creator.  It  favored  the 
resurrection  to  life  of  the  natural  religious  affections,  and 
the  revival  of  those  holy  longings  and  aspirations  after  a 
higher  life  and  a  grander  destiny  than  earth  can  give, 
which  arise  so  spontaneously  in  the  breasts  of  men.  It 
allowed  the  better  self  to  rise  and  assert  its  jiower,  while  it 
shamed  the  evil  self  into  the  shade.  And  often,  when 
away  beyond  the  sight  of  man  or  of  human  habitation, 
amidst  the  eternal  silence  and  the  boundless  solitude,  I  had 
strange  thoughts  and  strange  feelings;  and  there  were 
times  when,  if  I  had  yielded  to  the  impulses  from  within, 
I  should  have  cast  myself  down  upon  the  ground,  and 
adored  the  Great  Mysterious  Infinite. 

On  one  occasion  I  went,  in  com2)any  with  my  youngest 


ADVENTURES    IN   THE   WILDERNESS.  315 

son  and  a  friend,  some  distance  into  the"1tnterior  of  the 
country.  At  one  point  we  came  upon  a  deserted  and  de- 
caying Indian  village,  and  then  upon  an  Indian  track 
across  the  desert.  A  little  further  on  we  struck  a  Mormon 
track,  along  which  a  company  of  the  Latter-day  saints  had 
groped  their  way  toAvards  their  promised  Paradise  in  the 
Salt  Lake  Valley.  As  we  followed  the  track  we  came 
upon  a  mound,  and  then  upon  another,  marking  the  spots 
where  worn-out  travellers  had  ended  their  weary  pilgrim- 
ages, and  been  consigned,  amid  the  desolate  Avilds,  to  their 
final  resting  places.  Into  one  of  these  unprotected  graves 
the  wolves  had'  made  their  way,  to  feed  upon  the  fallen 
victim  of  the  new  faith.  When  nio-ht  came  on  it  found  us 
in  these  dreary  and  desolate  wilds,  and  there  we  had  to 
prepare  to  pass  the  night  under  the  open  sky,  with  multi- 
tudes of  wolves  around  us.  We  had  hardly  spread  our 
blankets  when  the  sky  was  covered  with  black  and  heavy 
clouds,  and  lightnings  flashed,  and  thunders  roared,  and 
everything  betokened  a  night  of  storm  and  rain.  We  pro- 
tected ourselves  against  the  threatening  elements  as  well 
as  we  could,  and  prepared  ourselves  for  cold  and  drenching 
showers,  and  for  a  sleepless  and  troubled  night,  when,  hap- 
pily for  us,  the  wind  suddenly  changed,  and  dissipated  the 
clouds.  The  stars  came  out  in  all  their  glory,  and  the 
night  was  calm  and  bright,  and  all  we  had  to  try  our 
patience  was  a  little  frost.  And  there  I  slept ;  and  there 
I  often  awoke  ;  and  in  my  intervals  of  v/akefulness  I  gazed 
on  the  magnificence  of  the  outspread  skies,  and  mused  on 
the  dreariness  of  the  surrounding  wilderness,  and  thought 
of  the  stirring  scenes  through  which  I  had  passed  in  days 
gone  by,  and  of  the  strange  and  death-like  silent  one  in 
which  I  then  was  placed.  "And  what  will  the  future 
be?"  said  I.  "  And  here  is  my  son ;  in  the  spring  of  life; 
on  adventures  so  strange;  in  a  universe  so  vast  and  so  mys- 
terious ;  what  will  be  his  destiny  ?  And  what  will  be  the 
destiny  of  the  dear  ones  we  have  left  behind  ?"  And  then 
I  lost  myself  in  a  world  of  strange  imaginings.  When 
wearied  with  my  restless  musings,  I  sank  to  rest  again,  and 
passed  from  waking  into  sleeping  dreams. 

Morning  broke  at  length,  and  we  arose,  and  started  on 
our  journey.  The  deer  were  skipping  gaily  over  the  plains. 


316  DANGERS   AND    DELIVERANCES. 

The  wolves  were  hiding  in  their  holes.  We  came  at  length 
to  a  stream.  It  was  skirted  by  a  grove,  into  which  we  made 
our  way,  and  there  we  kindled  a  fire,  and  prepared  our  break- 
fast. We  filled  our  coffee  kettle  from  the  brook.  A  hazel 
twig  served  us  for  a  toasting  fork ;  and  we  were  soon  en- 
gaged in  one  of  the  pleasantest  parts  of  a  hungry  traveller's 
work.  We  relished  our  bread  and  ham  and  coffee  amazing- 
ly. The  wolves  might  be  snuffing  the  odor  of  our  viands, 
and  coveting  our  repast ;  but  they  remained  within  their 
hiding-places,  and  kept  silent ;  and  we  finished  our  meal 
in  peace. 

We  rested  next  on  the  outskirts  of  a  grove  on  the  banks 
of  the  Elkhorn  river.  Here  I  was  left  to  take  care  of  the 
stuff,  to  prepare  a  bed,  and  to  gather  wood  for  a  fire  to 
cook  our  supper,  and  to  frighten  away  the  M^olves,  and 
keep  us  warm  through  the  night.  I  gathered  a  quantity 
of  dry  and  withered  grass,  and  spread  it  on  the  ground, 
and  covered  it  with  a  blanket,  for  a  bed.  I  then  looked 
around  for  Avood.  I  saAV  some  down  in  a  dark  deep  gully, 
and  went  to  fetch  it ;  when  I  found  myself  all  alone  and 
unarmed  in  front  of  a  hideous  wolf-hole.  I  retreated  with 
all  the  haste  I  could,  and  was  soon  on  the  top  of  the  bank 
again,  panting  and  trembling,  and  endeavoring  to  increase 
the  distance  between  myself  and  the  horrible  den  as  rapid- 
ly as  I  could.  I  next  looked  round  for  wood  on  safer 
ground,  and  having  collected  a  quantity,  I  waited  with 
anxiety  for  the  return  of  my  companions.  We  slept  that 
night  in  a  half-built  and  deserted  log  cabin,  without  doors 
or  windows,  put  up  by  some  adventurous  border- man  to 
secure  a  claim  to  a  portion  of  the  surrounding  land.  A 
considerable  part  of  the  cabin  was  without  roof  And 
there  were  large  spaces  between  the  layers  of  logs  through 
which  tlie  frosty  winds  had  free  admission.  For  a  time 
we  deliberated  whether  we  should  be  colder  inside  the 
cabin  or  outside.  At  length  we  decided  in  fovor  of  the 
interior.  We  then  took  the  wagon  body  oft'  the  frame  and 
carried  it  into  the  cabin,  and  raised  it  on  one  side  to  screen 
us  from  the  wind  which  came  through  the  cabin  walls. 
Against  the  wall  at  our  head  we  fixed  up  rugs.  At  our 
f^ct,  between  our  bed  aTid  the  open  doorway,  we  had  our 
blazing  fire.     And  there  m'C  slept.     We  had  prickly  sen- 


DREADrUL   PRAIRIE    FIRE.  317 

sations  in  our  eyes  in  the  morning,  but  th^  soon  passed 
away.  AVe  took  no  cold,  or  none  that  proved  serious  at  all. 
And  the  wolves  seemed  to  keep  at  a  respectable  distance. 

As  soon  as  we  had  got  through  our  breakfast,  and  put  our 
waggon  and  team  in  order,  we  started  homewards.  At  one 
point,  as  we  passed  along,  a  wolf  looked  quietly  down  upon 
us  from  the  side  of  a  hill  just  by.  A  bigger  one  had  passed 
us  as  we  stood  in  front  of  the  half-built  cabin  in  which  we 
had  passed  the  night.  The  region  abounded  with  them  on 
every  side. 

While  crossing  a  tract  of  rich  bottom  land,  where  the 
dry  and  withered  grass  of  the  previous  summer  lay  thick, 
I  struck  a  light,  and  for  an  experiment,  set  the  prairie  on 
fire.  The  flames  blazed  forth  at  once  like  gunpowder. 
They  spread  and  roared.  The  wind  rose,  and  blew  the 
flames  in  the  direction  of  our  wagon.  It  was  all  we  could 
do  to  get  to  the  wagon  and  jump  in  and  flee.  We  had  no 
sooner  started  the  horses  than  we  found  that  the  traces  of 
one  of  them  were  loose,  and  we  had  to  jump  out  again  to 
fasten  them ;  and  before  we  could  retake  our  places  the 
flames  were  almost  at  our  ears.  The  horses  fled,  however, 
at  a  good  quick  pace,  and  speedily  carried  us  beyond  the 
reach  of  danger,  and  we  got  safe  home. 

2.  There  were  many  things  in  my  new  situation  and  in 
my  strange  way  of  life,  besides  the  silence  and  the  solitude 
of  a  boundless  desert,  that  were  calculated  to  awaken  with- 
in me  solemn  feeling,  and  to  rouse  me  to  serious  thought- 
fulness  on  things  pertaining  to  God  and  religion.  And 
when  once  my  mind  had  begun  to  awake  to  such  matters, 
it  was  never  permitted  to  sink  again,  for  any  length  of 
time,  into  its  former  death-like  slumber.  And  many  things 
befel  me  that  tended  to  make  me  feel,  and  feel  most  pain- 
fully at  times,  the  helplessness  and  cheerlessness,  the  gloom 
and  wretchedness,  of  the  man  who  has  lost  his  trust  in 
God,  and  his  hope  of  a  blessed  immortality.  There  is 
nothing  in  utter  doubt  and  unbelief  to  satisfy  a  man  with 
a  heart.  A  man  with  a  heart  M-ants  a  Father  in  whose 
bosom  he  can  repose,  a  Saviour  in  whose  care  and  sym- 
pathy he  can  trust,  and  a  better  world  to  which  he  can 
look  forwai'd  as  his  final  home  and  resting-place,  and  as 
the  eternal  home  and  resting-place  of  those  who  are  dear 


318  HORRORS   OF   ATIIEIS!*!. 

to  him.  And  I  had  a  heart.  I  was  not  made  for  infi- 
delity. I  never  submitted  to  it  willingly,  and  I  never  sat 
easy  under  its  power.  I  had  affections,  cravings,  wants, 
which  nothing  but  religion  could  satisfy, 

3.  Then  trouble  came.  Infidelity  is  a  wretched  affair  even 
in  prosperity  ;  but  in  adversity  it  is  still  worse.  And  ad- 
versity overtook  me.  In  the  spring  of  1857  we  had  a  reason- 
able income,  from  property  which  we  supposed  to  be  of  con-: 
siderable  value.  A  few  weeks  later  a  panic  came,  and 
our  income  fell  to  nothing;  our  property  was  valueless; 
instead  of  a  support  it  became  a  burden,  and  we  had  to  set 
to  work  to  get  a  living  by  our  labor,  at  a  time  Avhen  work 
was  hard  to  be  got,  and  when  wages  were  down  at  the 
lowest  point.  This  was  a  time  of  great  distress  and  griev- 
ous trial,  and  I  felt  the  want  of  consolation  most  keenly. 
I  could  once  have  said,  "  Althouo;h  the  fig;  tree  shall  not 
blossom,  neither  shall  fruit  be  on  the  vines  ;  the  labor  of  the 
olive  shall  fail,  and  the  fields  shall  yield  no  meat ;  the 
flock  shall  be  cut  off  from  the  fold,  and  there  shall  be  no 
herd  in  the  stalls ;  yet  will  I  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  will 
joy  in  the  God  of  my  salvation."  But  now  I  had  no  God. 
The  universe  had  no  great  Fatherly  Ruler.  The  affairs  of 
man  were  governed  by  chance,  or  by  a  harsh  and  grinding 
necessity ;  and  all  good  ground  of  hope  and  cheerful  trust 
had  given  place  to  doubt,  and  gloom,  and  cruel  uncer- 
tainty. 

4.  Trials  of  other  kinds  came.  Sickness  and  pain 
entered  our  dwelling,  and  seized  upon  one  of  my  family. 
My  youngest  son  was  taken  ill.  He  was  racked  with  ex- 
cruciating pain.  It  seemed  as  if  the  agony  would  drive 
him  to  distraction,  or  cut  short  his  days.  And  there  I 
stood,  watching  his  agony,  and  distracted  with  his  cries, 
unable  to  utter  a  whisper  about  a  gracious  Providence,  or 
to  offer  u])  a  prayer  for  help  or  deliverance. 

5.  Another  dear  one  was  afflicted  ;  and  again  my  heart 
was  torn,  and  again  my  lips  were  scaled.  I  could  not  even 
say  to  the  suffering  one,  "  God  bless  you." 

6.  I  was  called  to  attend  the  funeral  of  a  child.  The 
parents  were  in  great  distress,  and  I  was  anxious  to  speak 
to  them  a  word  of  comfort ;  but  doubt  and  unbelief  had 
left  me  no  such  word  to  speak.     I  remembered  the  day 


UTTER    HOPELESSNESS.  319 

when  I  could  have  said,  "  Of  such  is    the-   kingdom  of 
heaven." 

"  They  rest  in  Jesus,  and  are  blest. 
How  sweet  their  slumbers  are." 

But  the  happy  day  was  gone,  and  I  was  dumb  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  mourners. 

7.  I  was  called,  on  another  occasion,  to  visit  a  friend,  a 
brother  skeptic,  who  was  sick  and  likely  to  die.  I  had 
often  visited  him  when  he  was  well,  and  we  had  managed, 
on  those  occasions,  to  interest  or  amuse  each  other  ;  but 
now  we  were  helpless.  Both  were  in  sorrow,  and  neither 
could  console  his  brother.  And  there  we  were,  looking 
mournfully  on  each  other  in  the  face  of  death,  speechless 
and  comfortless.  I  am  horrified  when  I  think  of  the  dread- 
ful position  in  -which  I  was  placed  on  those  solemn  occa- 
sions. It  seemed  to  me  as  if  I  had  been  enchanted  all 
those  dreary  days  by  some  malignant  demon,  and  made 
the  sport  of  his  infernal  cruelty.  My  friend,  like  myself, 
had  been  a  Christian  in  his  earlier  days,  and  had  rejoiced 
in  the  assurance  of  God's  love  and  favor,  and  in  hopes  of 
future  and  eternal  blessedness ;  and  now  he  was  passing 
away  in  utter  cheerlessuess  and  hopelessness.  He  died, 
and  I  followed  his  remains  to  the  grave.  I  spoke ;  but  I 
had  no  great  comforting  truths  with  Mdiich  to  cheer  the 
sad  hearts  of  his  weeping  kindred.  I  looked  down,  with 
his  disconsolate  widow,  and  his  sorrowing  children,  into 
the  dark  cold  vault,  but  could  say  not  a  single  word  of  a 
better  life.     We  sorrowed  as  those  who  have  no  hope. 

8.  While  I  was  in  Nebraska  my  mother  died.  Like  my 
father,  Avho  had  died  some  years  before,  she  had  been  a 
Christian  from  her  early  days  ;  a  very  happy  one  ;  and  she 
continued  a  Christian  to  the  last.  She  was  one  of  the  most 
affectionate  and  devoted  mothers  that  ever  lived.  She  had 
eleven  children.  The  eldest  one  died  when  he  was  twenty- 
one,  after  having  spent  a  number  of  years,  young  as  he 
was,  as  an  able  and  useful  minister  of  Christ.  He  died  a 
happy  death.  The  remaining  ten  were  all  permitted  to 
grow  up  to  manhood  and  womanhood,  and  my  mother  had 
the  happiness  at  one  time,  an  unspeakable  happiness  to  her, 
to  see  them  all,  with  one  exception,  devoted  to  the  service 


320  UNMITIGATED    SORROW. 

of  God,  and  several  of  them  engaged  as  preachers  of  the 
Gospel.  Tliey  were  joyful  days  to  her  when  she  could  get 
them  all  together,  as  she  sometimes  did,  to  sing  with  her 
the  sweet  hymns  of  praise  and  gratitude,  of  hope  and  rap- 
ture, which  had  cheered  her  so  often  during  the  years  of 
her  pilgrimage.  And  now  she  was  gone.  I  had  seen  her 
some  years  before  when  on  a  visit  to  my  native  land.  She 
knew  of  my  skeptical  tendencies,  and  though  she  had  faith 
in  my  desire  to  be  right,  she  was  afraid  lest  I  -should  miss 
my  way,  and  entreated  me  with  all  the  affectionate  tender- 
ness of  an  anxious  mother,  not  to  allow  myself  to  be  carried 
away  from  the  faith  and  hope  of  the  Gospel.  "  Do  pray, 
my  dear  son,"  she  said, — "  Do  pray  that  God  may  lead 
you  in  the  right  path.  I  want  to  meet  you  all  in  heaven. 
It  would  be  a  dreadful  thing  if  any  of  you  should  be  found 
wanting  at  last.  Don't  forsake  God.  Don't  leave  Christ. 
Religion  is  a  reality  ;  a  blessed  reality.  I  know  it,  I  feel 
it,  my  dear  son.  It  is  the  pearl  of  great  price."  These 
were  the  last  words  I  heard  from  her  lips.  I  listened  to 
them  in  silence.  Though  I  was  too  far  gone  to  be  able  to 
sympathize  with  her  remarks  as  much  as  I  ought,  I  was 
wishful  that  she  should  enjoy  all  the  comfort  that  her  faith 
could  give  her.  She  wept ;  she  prayed  for  me ;  she  kissed 
me ;  and  I  left  her,  to  see  her  face  no  more  on  earth.  I  re- 
turned to  ray  home  in  America,  and  the  next  thing  I  heard 
of  the  dear  good  creature  was,  that  she  had  finished  her 
course.  I  kept  the  sad  intelligence  to  myself,  for  my  heart 
was  too  full  to  allow  me  to  speak  of  my  loss,  even  to  those 
who  were  nearest  and  dearest  to  me.  I  thought  of  all  her 
love  for  me  from  my  earliest  days ;  and  of  all  her  labors 
and  sacrifices  for  my  comfort  and  welfare.  I  remembered 
her  counsels  and  her  warnings.  I  remembered  her  last  kind 
words,  her  kiss,  her  prayers,  her  tears.  It  seems  dreadful ; 
but  unbelief  had  so  chilled  my  soul,  that  I  could  no  longer 
indulge  the  sweet  thought  of  an  immortal  life  even  for  the 
soul  of  my  dear  good  Christian  mother.  I  had  once  had 
visions  of  a  land  of  rest,  a  paradise  of  bliss,  and  countless 
crowds  of  happy  souls,  and  rapturous  songs,  and  shouts 
of  praise,  and  joyous  meetings  of  loving  and  long  parted 
friends  in  realms  of  endless  life  and  boundless  l)lessedncss; 
but  all  were  gone.     A  sullen  gloom,  a  deathlike  stupor, 


DEATH    AND    DESPAIR.  321 

a  horrible  and  unnatural  paralysis  of  liQpe  had  come  in 
place  of  those  sweet  visions  of  celestial  glories.  My  only 
comfort  was,  that  though  I  had  ceased  to  believe  in  the 
divinity  of  Christianity  myself,  she  had  retained  her  faith, 
and  had  lived  and  died  in  the  enjoyment  of  its  consola- 
tions. 

9.  We  had  a  young  woman  that  had  lived  with  us,  with 
the  exception  of  two  short  intervals,  all  the  time  we  had 
been  in  America.  She  had  come  to  regard  us  as  her 
natural  guardians,  and  we  had  come  to  look  on  her  as  one 
of  our  family.  The  second  time  she  left  us  she  caught  a 
fever,  and  returned  to  us  in  hopes  that  in  her  old  and  quiet 
home  she  would  soon  be  well  again.  We  procured  her 
medical  aid,  but  the  fever  got  worse.  The  doctor  lost 
hopes,  and  it  soon  began  to  be  evident,  that  she  Avas  doomed 
to  a  speedy  death.  I  attended  her  during  the  last  sad 
night  of  her  sufferings.  I  heard  her  moanings  as  her  life 
drew  slowly  towards  a  close.  I  wanted  to  comfort  her, 
but  I  had  lost  the  power.  I  could  once  have  spoken  to 
her  of  a  Father  in  heaven,  and  of  a  better  world  ;  but  I 
could  speak  on  those  subjects  no  longer.  I  could  once  have 
kneeled  by  her  side  and  prayed ;  but  I  could  pray  no  more. 
I  could  neither  comfort  myself  nor  my  dying  charge.  She 
passed  away  without  a  word  of  consolation  or  a  whisper 
of  hope  to  cheer  her  as  she  trod  the  dark  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death.  I  stood  by,  afflicted  and  comfortless,  Mdien  her 
lifeless  form  was  committed  to  its  final  resting-place,  un- 
able to  speak  a  word  of  hope  or  consolation  to  the  sorrow- 
ing minds  that  were  gathered  around  her  grave.  She  was 
interred  on  the  slope  of  the  hill,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
stream  over  against  my  farm,  within  view  of  the  field  and 
the  garden  in  which  I  often  worked,  and  the  lonely  dwell- 
ing in  which  I  frequently  slept.  And  there  she  lay,  far 
from  her  kindred  and  her  native  land,  the  wild  winds 
moaning  over  her  solitary  grave,  and  no  sweet  word  about 
God,  or  Christ,  or  a  better  life,  to  mark  the  spot  where  she 
slept.  And  there,  on  that  quiet  farm,  and  in  that  solitary 
dwelling,  with  that  one  melancholy  grave  in  view,  I  passed 
at  times  the  long  sad  days,  and  the  still  and  solemn  nights, 
in  utter  loneliness,  gazing  on  the  desolate  scenes  around, 
or  feeding  on  saddening  thoughts  within,  "  without  hope 
21 


322  SORROW   ON   SORROW. 

and  without  God  in  the  world."  I  sought  for  comfort  in 
a  Godless  and  Christless  philosophy,  but  sought  in  vain. 
I  tried  to  extort  from  nature  some  word  of  consolation, 
but  not  a  whisper  could  I  obtain.  I  tried  to  forge  some 
theory  of  my  own  that  might  lessen  the  gloom  in  which 
I  was  wrapt;  but  my  efforts  were  fruitless.  The  light 
of  life  was  quenched ;  the  joy,  the  bliss  of  being  was  no 
more.  I  had  "  forsaken  the  fountain  of  living  waters," 
and  nothing  remained  but  broken  cisterns  that  could  hold 
no  water.  I  was  wretched;  and,  apart  from  God,  and 
Christ,  and  immortality,  my  wretchedness  was  incurable  ; 
and  the  sense  of  my  wretchedness  prepared  me,  and  ulti- 
mately constrained  me,  to  look  once  more  in  the  direction 
of  the  religion  that  had  cheered 'me  in  my  earlier  days. 

10.  I  had  a  great  and  grievous  trial  of  another  kind 
while  in  Nebraska.  When  we  removed  to  that  far-off 
country,  we  left  our  eldest  son  in  Ohio  to  look  after  our 
interests  there,  and  to  send  off  to  us  what  goods  we  might 
require  in  our  new  home.  The  river  'Ohio,  down  which 
our  goods  had  to  be  sent,  was  low  at  the  time,  and  the 
steamer  on  which  they  were  placed,  while  racing  recklessly 
with  another  steamer,  struck  on  a  rockrand  was  wrecked. 
There  were  over  a  thousand  volumes  of  my  books  on  board, 
the  best  and  principal  part  of  my  library  ;  nearly  all  my 
manuscrijits  too  were  on  board,  and  much  other  property, 
amounting  in  value  to  twelve  or  thirteen  hundred  pounds  ; 
over  $6,000 ;  and  nearly  all  was  lost,  oi-  irreparably 
damaged. 

This  however  was  but  a  light  part  of  the  trial.  As 
soon  as  my  eldest  son  got  news  of  the  wreck,  he  hastened 
to  the  spot,  to  save  what  portions  of  our  property  he  could. 
The  weather  was  hot  by  day,  and  cold  by  night.  Both 
the  season  and  the  place  were  unhealthy,  and  by  his  great 
anxiety,  and  excessive  labors,  and  continual  exposure,  he 
brought  on  a  violent  fever.  The  first  hiformation  we  re- 
ceived about  the  matter  was  that  he  was  dying.  When 
the  dreadful  tidings  reached  us  we  were  more  than  a  thou- 
sand miles  away.  I  started  at  once  for  Ohio,  and  made 
what  haste  I  could  to  reach  my  son  ;  but  go  what  way  I 
would,  I  must  be  four  or  five  long  days  on  the  road,  and 
four  or  five  long  nights.     I  took  my  way  down  the  river. 


god's  great  goodness.  323 

For  four  long  days  and  four  long  dreary  nights  I  travelled, 
in  doubt  all  the  time  whether  my  child  was  dead  or  alive. 
And  all  that  time  I  was  unable  to  offer  up  a  praver,  either 
for  my  son,  myself,  or  the  anxious  and  sorrowing  ones  I 
had  left  behind.     Nor  could   I   apply  to   myself  a  single 
consolatory  promise  of  Scri])ture.     My  mad  antichristSin 
l)hilosophy  had  robbed  me  of  all.     God  and  His  Provi- 
dence, Christ  and  His  sympathy,  heaven  and  its  blessed- 
ness, were  all  gone,  and   nothing   was   left  but  the  hard 
blank  horrors  of  inexorable  fate.     My  soul  was  shut  up 
as  in  a  dungeon,  unable  to  help  itself.     It  was  stretched  on 
a  rack,  and  tortured  with  excruciating  pain.     Those  four 
long  dreary  days  and  nights  were   the  darkest   and    most 
miserable  I  ever  passed.     But  God  was  merciful.     I  lived 
to  reach  the  end  of  my  dreadful  journey,  and  He  had  spared 
my  son.     We  embraced, — we  wept.    "  We  were  spared — 
the  whole  of  our  family  were  spared,  thank  God— for  better 
days,  and  for  a  happier  lot. 

11.  There  were  other  events  which  befell  me  while  I  was 
in  Nebraska,  that  had  a  salutary   influence  on   my  mind. 
I  was  frequently  in  the  greatest  danger,  and  was  as  fre- 
quently preserved  from  harm.     As   I    have  said,  I  slept 
three  nights  with  a  rattlesnake  within  tliree  inches  of  my 
breast.     My  eldest  son  slept  repeatedly  in  the  same  terrible 
position;  yet  we  both  escaped  unhurt.     Once  I  was  with- 
in an  inch — within  a  hair's  breadth,  I  may  say — of  beino- 
killed  by  the  kick  of  a  horse.     On  another  occasion,  when 
my  eldest  son  was  forking  hay  in  the  field,  and  I  was  pilii^o- 
It  on  the  wagon,  he  heard  a  rattlesnake,  and  looked  all 
round  upon  the  ground  to  find  it,  with   a  view  to  kill  it, 
but  looked  in  vain.     At  length,  turning  his  eyes  upwards' 
he  saw  It  writhing  and  wriggling  on   one   of  the   pront^ns 
of  his  hayfork,  which  he  M-as  liolding  up  in  the  air.  He  had 
pierced  the  deadly  creature  while  forking  the  hay,  and  I 
had  taken  the  hay  from  the  fork  with   my  naked  hands 
and  escaped  unbitten.     I  had  quite  a  nmltitude  of  escapes 
from  deadly  peril,  some  more  remarkable  than  those  I  have 
described.  And  there  were  times  when  the  thoughts  of  those 
wonderful    deliverances  made   me   feel,  that    there   were 
far  more  incredible  doctrines  than  that  of  a  watchful  and 
gracioijs  Providence. 


324  DIFFICULTIES   OF   INFIDELITY. 

12.  Ao;ain.  When  I  commenced  my  career  of  religious 
exploration,  I  expected  I  should  get  rid  of  all  difficulties, 
and  that  I  should  reach  a  region  at  last  where  all  would 
be  light ;  where  there  would  be  no  more  harassing  or  per- 
plexing mysteries.  For  a  time  my  hopes  appeared  to  get 
realized.  The  doctrines  of  Calvinism  I  threw  away  in 
mass,  and  thus  got  rid  of  the  difficulties  connected  with 
predestination,  election  and  reprobation.  The  difficulties 
connected  with  infinite  and  absolute  fore-knowledge  I  got 
rid  of  by  modifying  and  limiting  the  doctrine.  Many 
theological  difficulties  appeared  to  arise,  not  from  the  doc- 
trines of  Scripture,  but  from  anti-christian  fictions,  and 
false  theories  of  Scripture  doctrines.  These  I  set  aside 
without  much  ceremony.  But  when  one  difficulty  was 
disposed  of,  another  made  its  appearance,  and  in  some  cases 
several.  And  when  I  got  outside  the  religion  of  Christ, 
more  difficulties  than  ever  made  their  appearance,  and  diffi- 
culties often  of  a  more  appalling  character.  The  doctrine 
of  predestination  came  back  in  the  shape  of  fate  or  necesi- 
ty.  All  the  great  difficulties  of  theology  had  ugly  like- 
nesses in  infidel  philosophy.  Instead  of  reaching  a  region 
of  unsullied  light,  I  got  into  one  of  clouds  and  darkness. 
And  the  further  I  wandered,  the  blacker  the  clouds  became, 
and  the  thicker  the  darkness.  The  difficulties,  the  per- 
plexities, on  the  side  of  unbelief,  were  more  distressing  and 
embarrassing  than  those  I  had  encountered  on  the  side  of 
Christianity. 

13.  Again.  I  was  frequently  tried  by  the  characters 
of  unbelievers.  I  had  read  and  believed  that  many 
of  the  older  unbelievers  had  been  immoral ;  but  I  sup- 
]>osed  that  modern  unbelievers  were  a  better  class.  I  had 
seen  a  number  f)f  statements  to  that  effect  in  books  and 
newspapers,  some  of  them  proceeding  from  Christians,  and 
even  from  Christian  ministers.  I  was  disposed  to  believe 
that  even  the  older  infidels  had  not  been  so  bad  as  re])re- 
sented.  I  knew  that  /had  been  belied,  and  I  considered 
it  probable  that  all  who  liad  had  quarrels  or  controversies 
with  members  of  the  priesthood,  had  been  belied  in  like 
manner.  I  believed  for  a  long  time,  that  the  loss  of  faith 
in  the  supernatural  origin  of  Christianity  and  the  Bible, 
had  made  me  better,  in  some  respects,  instead  of  worse.     I 


INFIDELITY  MEANS   UTTER   DEBASEMENT.  325 

thought  no  changes  had  taken  place  in  my  character,  but 
what,  on  the  whole,  were  improvements.  For  years  after 
I  became  an  unbeliever,  I  endeavored  to  practise  all  the 
unquestionable  virtues  inculcated  in  the  Bible,  and  I  was 
disposed  to  believe  that  modern  unbelievers  generally  did 
the  same.  And  when  I  lectured  against  the  Divine  au- 
thority of  the  Bible,  I  disclaimed,  as  I  have  already  said, 
all  sympathy  with  those  who  rejected  the  Bible  because  it 
discountenanced  vice.  And  such  was  the  violence  of  my 
anti-religious  fanaticism,  that  I  had  actually  come  at  one 
time  to  believe  that  infidelity,  in  connection  with  natural 
science,  was  more  friendly  to  virtue  than  Christianity. 

But  my  faith  in  this  view  met  with  many  rude  shocks 
after  I  had  been  some  time  in  America.  Often  when  1 
came  to  be  acquainted  with  the  men  who  invited  me  to 
lecture,  I  was  ashamed  to  be  seen  standing  with  them  in 
the  streets  ;  and  I  shrank  from  the  touch  of  their  hand  as 
from  pollution.  And  many  a  time  when  I  had  associated 
with  persons  for  a  length  of  time,  thinking  them  above 
suspicion,  I  was  amazed  to  find,  at  length,  that  they  looked 
on  vicious  indulgence  as  harmless,  and  were  astonished 
that  any  man  who  had  lost  his  faith  in  Christianity,  should 
have  scruples  with  regard  to  fornication  or  adultery. 
Though  these  painful  discoveries  did  not  at  once  convince 
me  that  infidelity  was  wrong,  and  Christianity  right,  they 
were  not  without  effect.  They  lessened  my  respect  for  the 
infidel  philosophy,  and  prepared  the  way  for  my  return  to 
Christ.  In  England,  where  I  expected  on  my  return,  to 
find  unbelievers  better,  I  found  them  worse.  I  supposed 
that  the  Secularists  thought  as  I  did  with  regard  to  virtue. 
I  thought  their  object  was  to  advance  the  temporal  inter- 
ests of  mankind,  and  never  dreamt  but  that  they  regarded 
virtue  as  the  greatest  of  those  interests.  And  when  I 
found  first  one  and  then  another  to  be  dishonest,  drunken, 
licentious,  I  was  disposed  to  regard  them  as  exceptions  to 
the  general  rule.  To  the  last ;  nay,  for  some  time  after 
ray  entire  separation  from  the  party,  I  supposed  the  profli" 
gate,  unprincipled,  abandoned  ones  to  be  the  few,  and  the 
honest  and  virtuous  ones  to  be  the  many.  And  when  at 
length  I  was  convinced  past  doubt  of  my  mistake,  the  efi'ect 
was  terribly  painful.     But  it  was  salutary.     It  went  far 


326  MY   FAMILY   EELIGIOUSLY    INCLINED. 

towards  convincing  me,  that  "whether  religion  was  founded 
in  truth  or  not,  it  was  necessary  to  the  virtue  and  happiness 
of  mankind.  It  prepared  me  and  inclined  me  still  further 
to  return  to  Christ,  and  brought  me  a  step  or  two  nearer  to 
His  side. 

14.  Then  again,  the  influences  of  my  family  were  strong- 
ly in  my  favor.  I  had  a  wife  that  always  loved  me,  and 
that  never  ceased  to  pray.  And  I  had  children  that  grew 
up  believers,  to  a  great  extent,  under  the  shadow  of  my 
unbelief  They  had  suffered,  as  I  have  already  said,  from 
the  cruel  treatment  to  which  they  had  seen  their  father  sub- 
jected :  they  had  been  awfully  prejudiced  against  certain 
classes  of  ministers,  if  not  against  ministers  generally  ;  but 
now  their  prejudices  were  well  nigh  gone.  And  they  had 
never  been  embittered  against  Christianity.  And  now  they 
had  come  to  feel  strongly  in  its  favor,  and  to  look  on  skep- 
ticism both  as  a  great  error,  and  a  terrible  calamity.  My 
youngest  son  was  something  of  a  genius.  He  was  a  clever 
mathematician,  and  an  acute  logician.  And  he  would  say 
to  me  sometimes,  when  he  heard  me  uttering  antichristian 
sentiments,  "  Father,  I  think  you  are  wrong.  I  am  sure 
you  are  wrong  on  that  point;  and  if  you  will  listen  to  me 
I  think  I  can  convince  you  that  you  are."  And  I  did 
listen.  I  had  long  been  accustomed  to  regard  my  children 
more  as  friends  and  companions,  than  as  inferiors,  and  to 
encourage  them  to  speak  to  me  with  all  freedom.  And 
thoy  were  kind  and  considerate  enough  as  a  rule  to  use  the 
liberty  I  gave  them  without  abusing  it ;  so  I  hearkened 
to  tlieir  remarks  and  remonstrances.  And  there  were  oc- 
casions on  which  the  logic  of  the  child  proved  mightier 
than  the  logic  of  tlie  ilither — there  were  cases  in  which  the 
father  learned  lessons  of  truth,  from  those  whom  he  ought 
to  have  instructed.  My  eldest  son,  if  not  so  powerful  in 
logic,  was  surpassed  by  none  in  goodness  and  tenderness; 
and  if  his  brotlic^r  excelled  him  in  acuteness  and  caution, 
no  one  could  excel  him'  in  devout  and  passionate  longings 
for  his  father's  return  to  Christ.  And  both  these  sons,  and 
the  whole  of  my  family,  exerted  an  influence,  which  tended 
first  to  check  the  extravagances  of  my  skepticism,  and 
then  to  help  and  hasten  my  return  to  the  truth  as  it  is  in 
Jesus. 


THEIR    INFLUENCE    ON    ME.  327 

My  sons  assisted  me  in  more  ways  than  one.  They  were 
more  observant  of  men  than  I  was,  and  they  were  better 
judges  of  character.  And  they  had  better  opportunities 
than  I  had,  of  learning  what  the  infidels  with  whom  they 
came  in  contact,  really  were,  both  in  their  principles  and 
way  of  life.  And  they  were  readier  to  receive  the  truth  on 
the  subject  than  I.  The  consequence  was,  that  both  in 
America  and  in  England,  they  gathered  up  a  multitude 
of  facts  that  I  should  have  passed  unnoticed ;  and  were  pre- 
pared to  use  them  for  my  benefit,  when  the  proper  time 
should  come.  And  the  proper  time  did  come  at  length.  I 
could  believe  nothing  against  parties  with  whom  I  was 
connected,  on  any  one's  testimony,  till  I  had  begun  my- 
self to  detect  their  misdoings.  My  wife  and  children  knew 
this,  so  they  never  troubled  me  with  their  discoveries,  till 
I  had  myself  begun  to  make  similar  discoveries.  As  soon 
as  they  found  I  had  seen  enough  to  shake  ray  confidence 
in  a  number  of  the  unbelievers — as  soon  as  they  found  that 
I  had  got  rid  of  my  mad  prejudices  in  favor  of  the  parties, 
and  had  so  far  come  to  myself  as  to  have  obtained  the  use 
of  my  eyes  and  understanding,  they  knew  that  the  time  for 
making  known  to  me  their  discoveries  had  come.  And  they 
made  them  known.  And  they  agreed  so  perfectly  with 
what  I  myself  had  seen  and  proved,  that  I  could  no  longer 
discredit  their  statements.  An'd  they  explained  a  multitude 
of  other  matters.  Thus  another  blow  was  struck,  both  at 
ray  faith  in  skeptics,  and  ray  faith  in  skepticism. 

And  both  my  wife  and  children  had,  on  the  whole,  won- 
derful patience  with  me  in  my  tardy  movements  towards 
the  truth.  When  I  consider  how  much  of  evil  they  saw 
in  connexion  with  infidelity,  and  how  strong  tlieir  feeling 
was  of  the  truth  and  necessity  of  religion,  I  wonder  at 
their  forbearance.  At  times  their  patience  was  well-nigh 
exhausted,  but  they  seldom  betrayed  the  fact  by  their  be- 
havior. But  my  eldest  son  informed  me,  after  ray  return 
to  Christ,  that  at  one  tirae,  doubting  whether  I  should 
ever  be  cured  of  my  insanity,  he  made  up  his  mind  to  for- 
swear all  other  occupations,  and  give  himself  exclusively 
to  the  Christian  ministry,  that  he  might  spend  his  life  and 
powers  in  a  ceaseless  warfare  against  the  horrible  delusions 
to  which  I  seemed  so  irretrievably  wedded. 


328  LECTURES   ON   INFIDELITY. 

15.  In  the  year  1857,  towards  the  close  of  the  summer, 
I  left  my  home  in  Nebraska  for  a  time,  and  went  eastward 
on  a  lecturing  tour.  My  first  appointment  was  at  East 
Liverpool,  in  Ohio.  There  I  met  with  my  good  old  friend 
John  Donaldson,  of  Byker,  near  Newcastle-on  Tyne, 
England.  He  spoke  of  days  long  past,  when  we  worked 
together  in  the  cause  of  Christ.  He  was  kind,  as  he  had 
always  been;  but  it  troubled  him  to  find  me  so  changed — 
so  far  estranged  from  the  views  of  former  times.  Though 
glad  to  see  my  friend,  the  memories  which  his  presence  re- 
vived, of  the  days  when  I  was  a  happy  and  a  useful  min- 
ister of  Christ,  and  the  partial  re-awakening  of  old  religious 
thoughts  and  feelings  which  it  occasioned,  made  me  feel, 
for  a  moment,  an  indescribable  sensation,  as  of  one  who 
had  got  an  unlooked-for  glimpse  of  some  fearful  loss  he 
had  sustained,  or  of  some  tremendous  mistake  he  had  com- 
mitted. My  infidel  logic,  however,  hastened  to  my  aid, 
and  assured  me  I  was  right ;  but  the  deep  and  deathless 
instincts  of  my  soul  were  not  entirely  at  rest. 

I  reached  Philadelphia  at  length.  There  I  was  engaged 
by  Dr.  W.  Wright  for  eight  months.  I  lectured  every 
Sunday,  sometimes  on  theological,  sometimes  on  moral, 
and  sometimes  on  scientific  and  general  subjects.  I  always 
urged  on  my  hearers  a  virtuous  life,  and  did  what  I  could 
to  escape  the  society  of  persons  of  immoral  habits.  And 
I  thought,  for  a  time,  I  had  succeeded.  But  I  was  griev- 
ously mistaken.  One  of  the  acting  men  in  my  congrega- 
tion was  a  Plymouth  man.  He,  as  I  afterwards  found, 
had  deserted  his  wife  and  family,  and  was  living  with 
another  woman.  Another,  a  more  important  member  of 
my  congregation,  whom  I  supposed  to  be  an  example  of 
])ropriety,  turned  out  to  be  an  advocate  of  unlimited 
license.  And  another,  a  man  of  great  wealth,  who  had 
often  invited  me  to  his  house,  and  shown  me  kindness  in 
other  ways,  I  found,  after  his  death,  had  never  been 
married  to  the  person  with  whom  he  had  lived  as  his  wife. 
I  also  found  that  he  had  another  fiiraily  in  another  part  of 
the  city.  I  mention  these  unpleasant  matters  to  show,  that 
facts  were  not  wanting  to  shake  my  faith  in  the  moral  in- 
fluence of  infidel  principles.  The  gentleman  by  whom  I 
■was  employed,  treated  me  with  great  respect  and  kindness. 


LECTUHES   IN    PHILADELPHIA.  329 

and  some  of  iliy  cougregatioii  did  what  they  could  to  make 
me  comfortable  ;  but  the  longer  I  remained  in  my  position, 
the  less  encouragement  I  saw  to  expect  infidelity  or  skep- 
ticism to  produce  a  virtuous  and  honorable  life. 

The  gentleman  by  whom  I  was  employed  had  thought 
of  expending  some  fifty  thousand  dollars  in  building  a  hall, 
and  endowing  a  lecture,  &c.,  for  the  propagation  of  infidel 
principles ;  but  the  conduct  of  the  skeptics  that  gathered 
round  him,  soon  cured  him  of  his  anti-christian  zeal. 

16.  Before  my  term  was  quite  expired,  I  was  engaged 
by  another  gentleman  for  eight  months.  But  I  had  seen 
so  much  to  shake  my  faith  in  the  beneficent  tendency  of  in- 
fidelity, that  this  time  I  left  myself  free,  both  to  lecture  on 
what  subjects  I  thought  best,  and  to  leave  my  situation  on 
two  months'  notice.  As  my  new  engagement  did  not  com- 
mence for  three  months  or  more,  I  had  the  happiness 
of  spending  some  time  in  the  bosom  of  my  family.  As 
usual,  the  influences  to  which  I  was  subject  tliere  were  all 
calculated  to  abate  my  faith  in  irreligious  principles,  and 
to  dispose  me  to  look  with  less  disfavor  and  prejudice  on 
Christianity.  In  August  I  started  again  for  Philadelphia. 
I  left  my  family  with  sadness  and  tears,  and  I  proceeded 
on  my  journey  with  a  feeling  that  it  would  not  be  long  be- 
fore my  labors  in  Philadelphia  would  come  to  an  end. 
And  the  feeling  grew  stronger  every  week.  The  Hebrews 
had  a  hard  task  when  they  were  required  to  make  bricks 
without  straw ;  but  he  who  undertakes  to  make  people 
good  without  religion,  has  to  make  bricks  without  clay 
— and  that  is  a  vast  deal  harder.  I  felt  my  position 
was  not  the  right  one,  and  I  longed  and  sighed  for  some- 
thing more  in  accordance  with  my  gradually  changing 
views  and  better  feelings ;  but  knew  not  exactly  what  it 
was  I  needed,  or  where  it  was  to  be  found.  I  frequently 
attended  the  m-inistry  of  Dr.  Furness,  the  Unitarian  minis- 
ter ;  and  though  his  preaching  was  far  from  being  all  it 
should  be,  his  sermons  had  a  salutary  effect  on  my  mind. 
His  words  about  God  and  duty,  about  Christ  and  immor- 
tality, fell  on  my  soul  at  times  like  refreshing  dew.  I  also 
went  to  hear  the  Rev.  Albert  Barnes,  and  was  both  pleased 
and  surprised  with  the  truth  and  excellence  of  many  of  his 
remarks.     I  heard  several  other  ministers,  but  the  irra- 


330  DO   NO   GOOD,   BUT    HAEM. 

tional  and  anti-christian  doctrines  set  forth  by  some  of  them, 
exerted  an  influence  on  my  mind  which  was  the  opposite 
of  salutary. 

At  the  end  of  two  months  I  gave  notice  to  my  commit- 
tee that  I  should  give  up  my  situation  as  lecturer.  I  had 
come  to  the  conclusion,  that  to  war  with  Christianity  was 
"^not  the  way  to  promote  the  virtue  and  happiness  of  man- 
kind, and  I  told  my  congregation  so.  I  added,  that  if  we 
were  even  sure  that  the  sentiments  entertained  by  Chi'is- 
tians  were  erroneous,  it  would  be  well  to  refrain  from  as- 
sailing them,  till  we  had  something  better  to  put  in  their 
place.  And  I  also  advised  them,  now  they  were  about  to 
be  left  without  a  lecturer,  to  go  to  some  place  of  worship ; 
and  if  they  could  not  hear  exactly  what  they  could  like,  to 
make  the  best  of  what  they  did  hear,  and  by  all  means  to 
live  a  virtuous,  honorable,  and  useful  life.  I  gave  simi- 
lar advice  to  congregations  in  other  jjlaces,  and  by  many 
it  was  well  received. 

When  I  gave  up  my  situation  in  Philadelphia,  my  in- 
tention was  to  return  to  England.  I  was  anxious  to  free 
myself,  as  far  as  possible,  from  men  of  extreme  views, 
whether  in  religion  or  ])olitics,  and  to  place  myself  in  a 
position  in  which  I  should  be  perfectly  free  to  pursue  what- 
ever course  a  regard  to  truth  and  duty  might  require.  I 
made  up  my  mind,  therefore,  that  on  my  arrival  in  England, 
I  would  stand  alone,  apart  from  all  societies  and  public 
men,  and  have  a  jiaper  of  my  own,  and  publish  from  time 
to  time  whatever  might  commend  itself  to  my  judgment  as 
true  and  good.  I  knew  I  had  changed  during  the  last 
two  years,  tliongh  I  did  not  know  how  much  ;  and  I  be- 
lieved I  was  changing,  though  I  could  not  tell  in  what  tiie 
change  whicli  was  taking  place  would  end.  I  had  no  idea 
tliat  I  could  ever  become  a  Christian  again,  though  the 
tendency  of  the  change  which  was  taking  place  in  me  was 
in  that  direction. 

Having  taken  leave  of  my  friends,  I  hastened  to  Boston, 
and  prej^ared  for  my  voyage  across  the  deep.  I  was  to 
Sail  by  the  Royal  Mail  Steamship  Canada,  on  the  eleventh 
of  January,  1860.  Just  as  I  was  stepping  on  board  the 
packet,  I  received  a  letter  from  my  youngest  son.  Among 
a  number  of  otlier  kind  things,  it  contained  words  like  the 


EETUEN   TO   ENGLAND.      STORMS   AT   SEA.  331 

following  :  "  Father,  dear,  when  you  g&L  to  England,  don't 
dream  that  by  any  breath  of  yours,  or  by  any  paper  balls 
that  you  can  fire,  you  can  ever  shatter  or  shake  the  eternal 
foundations  on  which  Christianity  rests."  Words  like 
these  from  a  dear  good  son  could  not  but  have  a  powerful 
effect  on  my  mind. 

And  now  I  started  on  my  voyage.     I  had  never  ven- 
tured on  the  sea  before  without  dread  of  shipwreck  and 
drowning.     This  time  I  had  no  such  fear.     On  the  con- 
trary, as  the  vessel  threaded  her  way  among  the  rocks  and 
islands  of  Boston  Harbor,  I  experienced  a  strange  and  un- 
accountable elevation  of  soul.     I  had  not  felt  so  cheerflil, 
so  hopeful,  so  happy,  for  many  years.     And  this  delight- 
ful joyousness  of  soul  continued  during  the  whole  of  the 
voyage.     Yet  I  had  never  gone  to  sea  at  so  dangerous  a 
season.     And  I  never  encountered  such  fearful  and  long- 
continued  storms.     Before  we  had  fairly  lost  sight  of  the 
last  point  of  land,  the  winds,  which  were   already  raging 
with  unusual  violence,  began  to  blow  more  furiously.   They 
fell  on  us  in  the  most  fearful  blasts,  and  roared  around  us 
in  a  deafening  howl.     The  sea  was  thrown  into  the  wildest 
uproar.     The  vessel  was  tossed  and  tumbled  about  in  the 
most  merciless  manner.     One  moment  she  was   plunging 
head  foremost  into  the  deep ;   the  next  she  was  climbing 
the  most  stupendous  waves.     Now  her  right  wheel  was 
vainly  laboring  deep  in  the  water,  while  her  left  was  spin- 
ning uselessly  in  the  air  ;  then  her  right  wheel  was  whirl- 
ing in  the  air,  while  her  left  was  splurging  in  the  deep. 
Sometimes  the  waves  swept  over  the  vessel,  while  at  other 
times  they  would  strike  her  so  rudely  on  the  side,  that  she 
staggered  through  all  her  timbers.     After  the  storm  had 
raged  for  two  or  three  days,  there  came  what  are  called 
white  squalls.     A  light  grey  cloud  appears  in  the  distance, 
and  as  it  approaches  you,  it  sends  forth  lightnings,  accom- 
panied with  hurried  bursts  of  thunder.     A  furious  storm 
of  hail  or  snow  immediately  follows.      The  howl  of  the 
tempest  rises  to  a  yell,  and  the  squall,  as  it  sweeps  along 
in  its  fury,  cuts  off  the  tops  of  the  waves,  and  scatters  them 
in  foam  over  the  surface  of  the  deep  like  a  mantle  of  snow. 
The  first  of  those  squalls  went  right  through    our  large 
square  sail,  tearing  it  to  shreds.     Another  sent  a  wave  on 


332  TERRIBLE    VOYAGE   BUT   SAFE   ARRIVAL. 

board  which  snapped  in  pieces  stanchions  of  wrought  iron 
thicker  than  my  arms,  and  carried  away  one  of  our  best 
boats.  And  this  unspeakable  uproar  of  the  elements  con- 
tinued for  several  days.  At  times  I  crept  on  deck  for  a 
few  moments,  and,  holding  by  the  rigging,  gazed  on  the 
wild  magnificence  of  the  appalling  scene.  And  all  this 
time  my  heart,  instead  of  being  tortured  with  its  customary 
fears,  was  full  of  a  cheerful  joyous  confidence.  It  was  as 
if  some  spirit  of  heaven  had  taken  possession  of  my  soul  to 
give  me  sweet  presentiments  of  the  approach  of  better  days. 
And  so  perhaps  it  was.  I  was  moving  onwards,  though 
I  knew  it  not,  to  a  happier  destiny,  and  the  peace  and  joy 
I  felt  were  as  the  dawn  or  twilight  of  the  coming  day  of  my 
redemption. 

We  reached  Liverpool  at  length,  and  I  was  soon  at 
Betley,  the  native  place  of  my  wife,  which  was  to  be  my 
temporary  home.  And  now,  if  I  had  fallen  into  good 
hands,  or  if  the  better  thoughts  and  tendencies  of  my  soul 
had  been  sufficiently  strong,  I  might  have  entered  at  once 
on  a  happier  course.  But  I  encountered  an  unlooked-for 
difficulty.  As  I  have  said,  my  intention  was,  on  landing 
in  England,  to  begin  a  periodical,  and  to  keep  apart  from 
persons  of  extravagant  views.  I  was  not  a  Christian,  nor 
did  I,  at  the  time,  suppose  I  should  ever  become  one ;  but 
I  was  an  earnest  moralist,  and  I  had  become  more  moderate 
in  my  ideas  both  on  religious  and  political  subjects.  And 
I  was,  to  some  extent,  prepared  to  receive  fresh  light.  I 
had  got  an  impression, — I  had  had  it  for  some  time  before 
I  left  America, — that  my  mind  was  not  in  a  thoroughly 
healthy  state, — tliat  it  was  not  exactly  itself, — that  it  Avas 
so  much  biassed  in  favor  of  irreligion,  that  it  was  incapable 
of  doing  justice  to  arguments  for  a  God  and  Providence, 
for  a  spiritual  world  and  a  future  life.  I  partly  believed, 
and  now  I  know,  that  facts  and  arguments  in  iavor  of  the 
groat  fundamental  doctrines  of  religion,  did  not  affect  and 
influence  me  so  much  as  they  ought, — that  my  doubts  and 
disbeliefs  were  stronger  than  facts  or  the  nature  of  things 
warranted.  I  suspected,  what  now  I  regard  as  past  doubt, 
that  erroneous  principles,  and  a  defective  method  of  rea- 
soning, and  long  practice  in  searching  out  flaws  in  argu- 
ments, and  detecting  and  exposing  errors  and  pious  frauds, 


NEW    INFIDEL    PAPER.  333 

had  disposed  me  too  strongly  to  distrus'T'aud  disbelief, — 
that  I  was  in  fact  a  slave  to  bad  habits  of  thought  and  rea- 
soning, as  really  as  the  inveterate  drunkard  is  the  slave  to 
his  irrational  apjjetite  for  strong  drink.  What  I  should 
believe  in  case  the  freedom  of  my  mind  and  the  just  and 
harmonious  action  of  its  powers  were  fully  restored,  I 
could  not  tell ;  but  I  had  a  strong  impression,  amounting 
to  something  like  an  assurance,  that  I  should  believe  more 
than  I  did  with  respect  to  God  and  a  spiritual  world.  Had 
I,  on  arriving  in  England,  found  myself  in  favorable  cir- 
cumstances, my  mind  might  quickly  have  recovered  its 
freedom,  and  returned,  in  part  at  least,  to  the  faith  of  its 
earlier  days.  But  this  was  not  my  lot.  I  was  beset  with 
new  temptations,  and  was  doomed  to  further  disappoint- 
ments. 

The  Secularists  had  got  out  a  prospectus  of  a  new  paper, 
and  I  was  urged  to  become  one  of  the  editors  ;  and  think- 
ing that  it  would  seem  mean  and  selfish  to  begin  a  paper 
of  my  own  under  such  circumstances,  I  reluctantly  con- 
sented. I  however  stipulated  for  full  control  over  one 
half  of  the  paper,  and  when  I  found  that  articles  of  a  dis- 
graceful and  mischievous  tendency  were  published  in  the 
other  half,  I  published  a  special  notice  in  mine,  every 
week,  that  I  was  not  answerable  for  those  articles. 

In  August  1860  my  wife  and  children  arrived  in  Eng- 
land. They  were  sorry  to  find  me  in  connection  with 
that  paper  and  with  the  party  which  it  represented ;  and 
they  set  themselves  at  once  to  work  to  bring  about  a  change ; 
and  it  was  not  long  before  they  succeeded.  A  book,  writ- 
ten by  a  leading  Secularist,  was  sent  to  me  for  review. 
When  I  read  it,  I  found  that  its  object  was  to  undermine 
marriage  and  bring  it  into  disrepute,  and  to  induce  men 
and  women  to  abandon  honorable  wedlock,  and  to  substi- 
tute for  it  unbounded  sensual  license.  It  was  the  filthiest, 
the  most  horrible  and  revolting  production  I  had  ever 
read.  This  loathsome  book  had  already  been  advertised 
in  the  paper  of  which  I  was  one  of  the  editors,  and  in  the 
part  of  the  paper  over  which  I  had  no  control,  it  had  been 
strongly  recommended.  I  found,  too,  that  it  had  been 
very  extensively  circulated  among  the  readers  of  the  paper, 
and  that  the  Secularist  leaders  were  adopting  measures  to 


334     MY  OWN  PAPER.   STRANGE  RESOLUTION. 

promote  its  still  more  extensive  circulation.  I  at  once  ex- 
posed the  villanous  production  in  my  portion  of  the  paper. 
As  far  as  a  respect  for  decency  would  permit,  I  laid  its 
loathsome  and  horrible  abominations  before  my  readers. 
This  led  to  an  instant,  a  total,  and  final  separation  between 
me  and  the  friends  of  the  licentious  book. 

I  now  commenced  a  Paper  of  my  own,  and  I  said  to 
myself,  and  I  said  to  my  children  :  "  I  will  now  re-read 
the  Bible ;  I  will  examine  Christianity ;  I  will  review  the 
history  of  the  Church ;  I  will  examine  the  character  and 
workings  of  the  varions  religious  organizations  of  the  day  ; 
and  whatever  I  find  in  them  that  is  true  or  good,  I  will 
lay  before  my  readers.  I  am  not  a  Christian,"  said  I ; 
"and  I  never  expect  to  be  one;  but  I  will  do  justice  to 
the  Christian  cause  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  I  have  said 
and  written  enough  on  the  skeptical  side :  I  will  see  what 
there  is  to  be  said  on  the  Christian  side." 

I  had  no  idea  of  the  greatness  of  the  task  I  was  under- 
taking. I  supposed  that  ten  or  a  dozen  articles  would  be 
sufficient  to  set  forth  all  that  was  true  and  good  in  the 
Bible.  But  when  I  came  to  examine  the  Book,  with  my 
somewhat  altered  views,  and  enlarged  experience,  and 
chastened  feelings,  I  found  in  it  treasures  of  truth  and 
goodness,  of  beauty  and  blessedness,  of  which,  even  in  my 
better  days,  I  seemed  to  have  had  but  a  very  inadequate  con- 
ception. I  was  touched  with  a  hundred  precepts  of  mercy 
and  tenderness  in  the  laws  of  Moses.  I  was  startled  and 
delighted  with  many  Old  Testament  stories.  The  charac- 
ter of  Job,  as  portrayed  in  the  twenty-ninth  and  thirty- 
first  chapters  of  the  book  that  goes  under  his  name,  melted 
me  to  tears.  I  was  delighted  with  the  purity  and  tender- 
ness, the  beauty  and  sublimity  of  the  Psalms.  I  was 
amazed  at  the  depth  and  vastness  of  the  wisdom  of  the 
Book  of  Proverbs.  I  was  pleased  with  the  stern  fidelity 
with  which  the  prophets  rebuked  the  vices  and  the  crimes, 
the  selfishness  and  cruelty,  of  the  sinners  of  their  days,  and 
the  tenderness  and  devotion  with  which  they  pleaded  the 
cause  of  the  poor,  the  fatherless,  and  the  widow.  When  I 
came  to  the  Gospels,  and  read  again  the  wonderful  story 
of  the  Man  of  Na/areth,  my  Avhole  soul  gave  way.  Tiic 
beauty,  the  tenderness,  the   glory   of  His  character  over- 


GET  A   SIGHT   OF    JESUS.  335 

powered  me.  I  was  ashamed  that  I  should  ever  have  so 
fearfully  misconceived  it,  and  done  it  such  grievous  in- 
justice. The  tears  rolled  from  my  eyes,  moistening  the 
book  in  which  I  was  reading,  and  the  paper  on  which  I 
was  writing.  But  I  proceeded  with  my  task.  I  pondered 
every  word  He  uttered,  and  was  delighted  with  His  glorious 
revelations  of  God,  and  truth,  and  duty.  I  gazed  on  all 
His  wondrous  works.  I  marked,  I  studied,  every  trait  in 
his  character.  I  read  the  sad  story  of  His  trials.  I  traced 
him  through  all  His  sufferings.  I  saw  the  indignities  and 
cruelties  to  which  He  was  subjected,  and  I  saw  the  meek- 
ness, the  patience,  and  the  fortitude  with  which  He  suffered. 
I  saw  Him  on  the  cross.  I  heard  the  prayer  which  He 
offered  in  the  midst  of  His  agonies  in  behalf  of  His  mur- 
derers, '  Father,  forgive  them  ;  they  know  not  what  they 
do.'  And  still  I  read,  and  still  I  gazed,  and  still  I  lis- 
tened. I  was  entranced.  I  had  thought  to  stand  at  a 
distance ;  to  look  at  Jesus  with  the  eye  of  a  philosopher 
and  moralist  only,  and  calmly  and  coolly  to  take  His  por- 
trait ;  but  I  was  overpowered.  The  strange,  the  touching 
sight  drew  me  nearer.  The  loving  one  got  hold  of  me. 
His  infinite  tenderness.  His  transcendent  goodness,  the 
glory  of  His  whole  character,  and  life,  and  doctrine  took 
me  captive ;  and  I  was  no  way  loth  to  be  held  by  such 
charms.  He  had  won  me  entirely.  I  loved  Him  with  all 
my  heart  and  soul.  I  was  His, — His  disciple.  His  ser- 
vant, entirely,  and  forever.  And  I  wanted  no  other 
treasure  but  to  share  His  love,  and  no  other  employment 
but  to  share  His  work.  I  was,  though  but  very  imper- 
fectly enlightened  on  many  things,  and  exceedingly  weak 
and  imperfect  in  many  respects,  most  blessedly  and  indis- 
solubly  wedded  to  Christ  and  His  cause. 

I  drew  the  portrait  of  the  Saviour  to  the  best  of  my 
ability,  and  sent  the  articles  to  the  press.  It  fell  to  the 
lot  of  my  children,  in  correcting  the  press,  to  read  those 
articles.  And  when  they  read  them,  they  too  wept,  and 
one  said  to  another,  "Father  is  coming  right;  he  will  be 
himself  again  by  and  by."  And  they  were  right  in  think- 
ing so.  I  had  come  in  contact  with  the  Great  Healer.  I 
had  got  a  sight  of  One  on  whom  it  is  impossible  to  look 
steadfastly   and    long   without    experiencing   a   thorough 


336  BLESSED    RESULTS. 

transformation  of  soul.  And  so  it  was  with  me.  From 
my  first  look  I  became  less  and  less  of  a  skeptic,  and  more 
and  more  of  a  believer  in  Christianity,  till  my  transforma- 
tion was  complete. 

The  more  I  read  the  Bible  with  my  altered  feelings  and 
change  of  purpose,  the  more  was  I  impressed  with  its 
transcendent  worth,  and  the  more  was  I  influenced  by  its 
renovating  power.  I  saw  that  whatever  might  be  said 
with  regard  to  particular  portions  of  the  Book,  it  was,  as  a 
whole,  the  grandest  revelation  of  truth  and  duty  that  the 
mind  of  man  could  conceive.  I  could  no  longer  find  in 
my  heart  to  talk  or  write  about  what  appeared  to  be  its 
imperfections.  There  were  passages  that  seemed  dark  or 
doubtful :  there  were  some  that  seemed  erroneous  or  con- 
tradictory ;  but  they  amounted  to  nothing.  They  did  not 
affect  the  scope,  the  drift,  the  aim,  the  tendency  of  the 
Book  as  a  whole.  They  might  not  be  consistent  with  cer- 
tain erroneous  theories  of  inspiration,  or  with  certain 
unguarded  statements  of  extravagant  theologians;  but  they 
were  consistent  with  the  belief  that  the  book,  as  a  whole, 
was  worthy  of  the  Great  Good  being  from  whom  it  was 
said  to  have  come,  and  adapted  to  the  illumination  and 
salvation  of  the  race  to  which  it  had  been  given.  Chris- 
tianity began  to  present  itself  to  my  mind  as  the  truest 
jihilosophy  ;  as  the  perfection  of  all  wisdom  and  goodness. 
AVhile  it  met  man's  spiritual  wants,  and  cheered  him  with 
the  promise  of  eternal  bliss,  it  was  manifestly  its  tendency 
to  promote  his  highest  interests  even  in  the  present  world. 
As  the  clouds  that  had  darkened  my  mind  passed  away,  it 
become  plain  as  the  light,  that  if  mankind  could  be  brought 
to  receive  its  teachings,  and  to  live  in  accordance  with  its 
principles,  the  world  would  become  a  ]mradise. 

2.  I  reviewed  Church  History.  Wiiiie  under  the  in- 
fluence of  anti-Christian  views  and  feelings,  I  had  read  tiie 
history  of  the  Church  and  Clu'istianity  witii  a  view  to  jus- 
tify my  unbelief,  rather  tlian  with  a  desire  to  know  the 
simple  truth.  I  had  loolccd  more  for  facts  wliich  could  be 
used  to  damage  the  Church,  than  for  fair  full  views 
of  things.  My  mind  had  dwelt  jiarticularly  on  the  Church's 
quarrels,  its  divisions,  its  intolerance,  and  its  wars ; — on 
tlie  favor  which  the  clergy  had  sometimes  shown  to  slavery 


REVIEWED   CHURCH   HISTORY.  337 

and  to  despotism ; — on  their  asceticisms,Tanaticisms,  and 
follies ;  and  on  cases  of  fraud,  and  selfishness,  and  impurity. 
I  had  read  as  an  advocate  retained  to  plead  the  cause  of  un- 
belief, rather  than  as  a  candid  judge,  or  an  unbiassed  stu- 
dent, anxious  to  know  and  teach  the  whole  truth.  I  was 
not  conscious  of  my  unfairness  at  the  time,  but  I  now  be- 
gan to  see  that  I  had  been  influenced  by  my  irreligious  pas- 
sions and  prejudices.  I  saw,  on  looking  over  my  Guizot 
for  instance,  that  I  had  marked  the  passages  which  con- 
tained matters  not  creditable  to  the  clergy,  and  passed 
unnoticed  those  portions  of  the  work  which  set  forth  the 
services  which  the  Church  and  Christianity  had  rendered 
to  civilization.  I  also  remembered  how  eagerly  I  had 
swallowed  the  unfair  representations  and  fallacious  reason- 
ings of  Buckle  with  regard  to  Christianity  and  skepticism, 
and  how  impatiently  I  had  hurried  over  what  reviewers 
friendly  to  Christianity  said  on  the  other  side  of  the  subject. 
The  balance  of  my  mind  was  at  length  restored.  I  now 
saw  that  Christianity  had  proved  itself  the  friend  of  peace 
and  freedom,  of  learning  and  science,  of  trade  and  agricul- 
ture, of  temperance  and  purity,  of  justice  and  charity, 
of  domestic  comfort  and  national  prosperity.  The  history 
of  Christianity  was  the  history  of  our  superior  laws,  of  our 
improved  manners,  of  our  beneficent  institutions,  of  our 
schools  of  learning,  of  our  boundless  wealth,  of  our  con- 
stitutional governments,  of  our  unequalled  literature,  of  our 
world-wide  influence,  of  our  domestic  happiness,  and  of  all 
that  goes  to  make  up  our  highest  forms  of  civilization.  Im- 
perfectly as  it  had  been  understood,  and  defectively  as  it 
had  been  reduced  to  practice,  Christianity  had  placed  the 
nations  of  Europe  at  the  head  of  the  human  race.  Chris- 
tian nations  were  the  most  enlightened  and  virtuous,  the 
most  prosperous  and  powerful,  the  most  free  and  happy 
of  all  the  nations  of  the  earth.  The  pious  frauds,  the  in- 
tolerance and  persecutions,  the  oppressions  and  wrongs,  the 
selfishness  and  sin,  which  were  found  in  the  history  of  the 
Church,  were  not  the  effects  of  Christianity,  but  the  effects 
of  passions  and  principles  directly  opposed  to  its  spirit  and 
teachings. 

3.  I  looked  at  the  Churches  of  the  day.     I  found  them 
all  at  work  for  the  education  of  the  young,  and  for  the  in- 
22 


338  LOOKED   AT   THE   CHURCHES. 

struction  and  salvation  of  the  world.  I  saw  them  build- 
ing schools  and  chapels,  and  supplying  them  with  teaches 
and  preachers.  I  saw  them  printing  books,  and  tracts,  and 
Bibles,  and  spreading  them  abroad  in  all  directions.  I  saw 
them  founding  libraries  and  reading-rooms,  and  young 
men's  Christian  associations,  and  ladies'  sewing  societies. 
I  saw  them  sending  out  missionaries  abroad,  and  carrying 
on  a  multitude  of  beneficent  operations  at  home.  I  asked 
for  the  schools  and  libraries,  the  books  and  periodicals,  the 
halls  of  science  and  the  missionary  operations  of  the  ene- 
mies of  Christianity;  but  they  were  nowhere  to  be  found. 
They  talked  about  education,  but  instructed  no  one.  They 
talked  about  science,  but  did  nothing  for  its  spread  or  its 
advancement.  They  abused  Christians  for  neglecting  men's 
temporal  interests,  but  did  nothing  to  promote  men's 
earthly  happiness  themselves.  They  found  fault  with  Sun- 
day.-schools,  and  talked  of  the  faults  of  Christians,  but 
never  corrected  their  own.  They  talked  of  liberty,  and 
practised  tyranny.  They  complained  of  intolerance,  yet 
followed  such  as  renounced  their  society,  or  questioned  their 
views,  with  the  bitterest  reproaches,  and  the  most  heartless 
persecution.  They  talked  of  reform,  but  sowed  the  seeds 
of  rebellion,  anarchy,  and  unbounded  licentiousness. 

The  Christians  had  the  advantage  over  their  adversaries 
even  in  outward  appearance.  They  were  cleaner  and 
better  clad,  and  were  more  orderly  in  their  deportment. 
There  was  quite  a  contrast  between  the  crowds  of  Christians 
that  passed  along  the  streets  to  their  places  of  worship,  and 
the  knots  of  Godless,  Christless  men  who  strolled  along,  or 
sat  in  their  doors,  in  their  dirty  clothes,  with  their  un- 
washed faces,  smoking  their  pipes,  or  reading  their  filthy 
])apers.  There  was  a  contrast  between  Christian  congrega- 
tions and  infidel  meetings.  One  had  the  appearance  of  pu- 
rity and  elevation  ;  while  the  other  had  the  stamp  of  pol- 
lution and  degradation.  Irreligion  seemed  the  nurse 
of  coarseness  and  barbarism.  Some  of  the  secularists  actu- 
ally argued  against  civilization,  as  Rousseau  had  done  before 
them.  One  of  them  reprinted  Burke's  ironical  work  in 
favor  of  the  savage  state,  and  sent  it  to  me  for  review,  and 
was  greatly  offended  because  I  refused  to  recommend  it  as 
a  sober,  serious,  philosophical  treatise  to  my  readers. 


GOOD   RESULTS.      STORY   CONTINUED.  339 

It  was  plain  that  there  was  something  #rong  in  infideli- 
ty,; that  its  tendency  was  to  vice  and  depravity ;  while 
Christianity,  whether  it  was  divine  in  its  origin  or  not,  was 
evidently  the  friend  and  benefactor  of  our  race. 

In  1862,  some  friends  of  mine  at  Burnley,  who  had  built 
a  public  hall  there,  engaged   me  as  their  lecturer.     The 
parties  were  unbelievers,  but  they  were  opposed  to  the  ad- 
vocates of  unbounded   license.     They   were  favorable  to 
morality,  and  wished  to   have  an  association  that  should 
embody  what  they  thought  good  in  the  Church,  without 
being  decidedly  religious.    They  wished  to  have  music  and 
singing  at  the  Sunday  meetings,  and  to  limit  public  discus- 
sion to  the  week-night  meetings.    They  also  wished  to  have 
Sunday-schools,  day-schools,  reading-rooms,  and  libraries. 
We  had  come  to   the  conclusion  that  the  Christians  were 
right  on  the  whole  in  their  way  of  conducting  their  public 
meetings,  and  we  were  resolved  to  imifcite  them  as  far  as 
we  honestly  could.    And  here  I  lived  and  labored  for  more 
than  a  year.     We  did  not  succeed  however  so  well  as  we 
had  expected.     Our  singers,  and  musicians,  and  Sunday- 
school  teachers  had  no  high  and  powerful  motive  to  keep 
them  regularly  at  their  posts,  so  that  whenever  a  strong 
temptation  came  to  lure  them  away,  they  ran  from  their 
tasks,  and  left  me  and  another  or  two  to  toil  alone.     We 
then  formed  a  Church,  and  made  laws,  thinking  to  keep  our 
associates  to  their  duty  in  that  way.     But  this  made  mat- 
ters worse.     Their  fancies  and  pleasures  were  their  laws, 
and  they  would  obey  no  other.     Most  of  our  teachers  left, 
and  I  and  a  friend  or  two  had  to  teach  the  scliool  ourselves. 
My  friends  established  a  day-school,  and  hired  a  teacher ; 
but  he  turned  out  to   be  an  unbounded  license  man ;  he 
brought  Avith  him,  in  fact,  an  unmarried  woman  instead 
of  his  wife,  and  they  found  it  necessary  to  get  rid  of  him 
as  soon  as  they  could. 

All  the  time  I  was  at  Burnley  my  heart  first,  and  then 
my  head,  were  coming  nearer  and  nearer  to  Christ  and 
Christianity.  I  gradually  gave  up  my  opposition  both  to 
religion  and  to  the  churches.  The  last  lecture  in  which  I 
gave  utterance  to  anything  unfavorable  to  the  Bible  was 
one  on  Noah's  flood.  I  spoke  on  the  subject  by  request,  and 
against  my  inclination,  and  before  I  had  got*^half  through 


3-iO  ASHAMED   OF   INFIDELITY. 

I  began  to  feel  unutterably  dissatisfied  with  myself.  I  was 
really  unhappy.  From  that  time  forward  I  dwelt  chiefly 
on  moral  subjects,  and  often  took  occasion  to  speak  favora- 
bly of  the  Bible  and  Christianity.  I  tried  to  explain  wliat 
was  dark,  and  to  set  forth  what  was  manifestly  true  and 
good  in  their  teachings. 

I  lectured  on  the  wisdom  of  the  Book  of  Proverbs, 
on  the  beauty  of  Christ's  character,  and  on  the  excellency 
of  many  of  His  doctrines,  on  the  advantages  of  faith  in 
Christ,  and  on  the  follies  and  vices  of  infidel  secularism, 
and  on  quite  a  number  of  other  Christian  subjects. 

My  younger  son  came  to  reside  at  Burnley  while  I  was 
there,  and  we  had  frequent  talks  as  we  walked  together 
along  the  fields  and  lanes,  and  over  the  neighboring  hills ; 
and  this  also  helped  to  bring  me  nearer  to  Christ  and  His 
Church.  I  read  the  works  of  Epictetus  at  this  time,  and 
my  faith  in  God  and  immortality,  and  my  love  of  virtue 
too,  were  strengthened  by  his  reasonings. 

About  the  same  time  a  person  wrote  to  me  to  go  and 
lecture  at  Goole.  I  went.  No  subject  had  been  named  to 
me,  and  I  resolved  to  speak  in  favor  of  the  leading  practi- 
cal principles  of  Christianity.  When  I  got  to  Goole,  I 
found  that  the  man  who  had  invited  me  had  put  up  a  bill, 
calline:  on  his  neig-hbors  and  fellow-townsmen  to  come  and 
hear  the  triumphant  opponent  of  Christianity  demolish  their 
religion.  I  told  him  he  shoukl  not  have  put  forth  a  bill 
like  that, — that  I  was  not  an  opponent  of  Christianity, — 
that  I  was  not  an  enemy  of  the  churches, — that  I  had  no 
desire  to  demolish  religion, — that  I  wished  to  bring  people 
to  cherish  and  practise  the  leading  principles  of  Christiani- 
ty. This  rather  puzzled  and  distressed  him ;  but  notwith- 
standing his  disappointment,  he  would  have  me  lecture. 
Tiie  meeting  was  out  of  doors.  I  soon  had  a  large  audience. 
I  quickly  undeceived  such  as  had  come  expecting  to  hear 
me  vilify  the  Bible,  the  churches,  or  religion.  I  spoke  in 
the  highest  terms  of  Christ  and  His  teachings.  I  showed 
that  many  of  them  were  the  perfection  of  wisdom  and 
goodness.  I  spoke  of  the  causes  of  human  wretchedness, 
and  showed  that  obedience  to  the  teachings  of  Christ  and 
His  Apostles  would  remove  them  all.  Many  things  that  I 
said,  and  especially  some  remarks  I  made  on  domestic  duties 


MY   FIRST   PEAYER.      THE   RESULT.  341 

and  domestic  happiness,  went  home  to  the*  hearts  of  my 
hearers.  Not  a  murmur  was  heard  from  any  quarter. 
Men  nudged  each  other,  and  women  looked  in  each  others' 
faces,  and  all  gave  signs  that  they  felt  the  truth  of  my  re- 
marks, and  the  wisdom  of  my  counsels,  and  the  meeting 
ended  as  satisfactorily  as  could  be  desired. 

It  was  while  I  was  living  at  Burnley  that  I  began  again 
to  pray.  A  young  atheist  died,  and  I  was  invited  to  his 
funeral,  and  requested  to  speak  at  his  grave.  When  we 
got  to  the  cemetery  the  little  chapel  was  occupied  by  another 
company,  and  we  had  to  wait  some  time  for  our  turn.  My 
mind  was  in  a  sad  and  solemn  mood,  and  I  left  my  party 
and  wandered  to  the  farther  end  of  the  cemetery.  It  was 
a  bright  and  beautiful  day  in  April.  The  grass  was  spring- 
ing fresh  and  green,  and  the  hawthorn  buds  were  opening, 
and  everything  seemed  full  of  life,  and  big  with  promise. 
The  sun  was  shining  in  all  his  glory.  The  thrushes  and 
the  blackbirds  were  singing  in  the  surrounding  groves  and 
thickets,  and  the  larks  were  pouring  forth  their  melody  in 
the  air.  Yet  all  was  dark  and  sorrowful  within.  I  felt 
the  misery  of  unbelief,  yet  felt  myself  unable  to  free  my- 
self from  its  horrible  and  tormenting  power.  I  had  a 
growing  conviction  that  I  was  the  slave  of  a  vicious  method 
of  reasoning,  and  of  an  inveterate  habit  of  unreasonable  or 
excessive  doubt,  and  that  I  had  not  the  power  to  do  God 
and  Christianity  justice.  I  felt  as  if  I  ought  to  pray,  but 
something  whispered,  "  It  is  irrational."  No  matter,  I 
could  refrain  no  longer  :  and  lifting  up  my  tearful  eyes  to 
heaven  I  exclaimed,  "  God  help  me."  He  did  help  me. 
He  strengthened  my  struggling  soul  from  that  hour,  and 
gave  to  the  good  within  me  a  growing  power  over  the  evil. 
I  dried  my  tears  and  returned  to  my  party.  I  spoke  at 
the  poor  young  Atheist's  grave,  and  concluded  my  address 
with  the  following  prayer,  "  May  trust  in  God,  and  the 
hope  of  a  better  life,  and  the  love  of  truth  and  virtue,  and 
delight  in  doing  good,  remain  with  all  who  have  them,  and 
come  to  all  who  have  them  not.     Amen." 

The  gentleman  with  whom  I  had  lived  at  Burnley  had 
said  to  me  on  the  morning  of  that  very  day,  that  if  I  prayed 
at  the  funeral  he  should  never  tliink  well  of  me  more.  He 
afterwards  said,  when  he  heard  of  the  prayer  I  had  offered, 


342  A   GOOD   OLD   FEIEND. 

he  had  no  objection  to  a  prayer  like  that.  He  was  not 
aware  of  the  shorter  prayer  that  I  had  offered  when  alone, 
or  he  would  have  spoken  probably  in  another  strain.  He 
was  dreadfully  opposed  to  religion,  and  very  uneasy  when 
he  saw  me  moving  in  the  direction  of  Christianity. 

Among  the  friends  who  left  the  church  on  account  of  my 
expulsion,  was  Samuel  Methley,  of  Mirfield,  near  Hudders- 
field.  He  was  rather  eccentric  in  some  respects;  but  he 
was  an  honest,  earnest,  kind,  and  Christian  man.  He  had 
had  little  or  no  school  instruction,  and  he  had  nothing  that 
could  be  called  learning,  or  high  intellectual  culture  ;  but 
he  Avas  a  man  of  great  faith,  of  much  love,  and  much 
prayer.  His  affection  and  reverence  for  me  were  almost 
unbounded,  and  so  long  as  I  continued  a  believer  in  Christ, 
he  was  ready  to  go  with  me  any  lengths  in  Evangelical  re- 
form. When  I  ran  into  politics  he  was  somewhat  staggered, 
but  followed  me  as  far  as  he  durst.  When  I  began  to  be 
skeptical  he  stood  still,  afraid,  and  very  unhappy.  On 
one  occasion  he  ventured  to  rebuke  me  ;  but  I  knew  that 
the  rebuke  was  the  offspring  of  affection,  and  I  took  it 
quietly.  When  I  went  to  America  he  was  greatly  dis- 
tressed, and  prayed  for  me  most  anxiously  and  earnestly. 
When  he  found  I  had  become  an  unbeliever,  he  resolved 
never  to  go  near  a  meeting  of  mine  again,  and  prayed  to 
God  to  help  him  to  keep  his  resolution.  For  many  years 
he  tried  to  wean  liimself  from  me,  to  extinguish  his  passion- 
ate regard  for  me ;  but  whenever  he  found  that  I  was  to 
lecture  in  his  neighborhood,  he  lost  his  self-control,  and 
came,  though  with  reluctance,  and  many  misgivings,  to 
my  meetings.  He  generally  rose  after  my  lectures,  to  pro- 
test against  my  extravagances,  and  to  testify  his  uncon- 
trollable affection  for  me,  and  his  anxious  desire  for  my 
salvation.  To  do  otherwise  than  take  his  remarks  in  good 
part  was  impossible.  Poor,  dear,  good  man !  I  little 
thought  at  the  time  how  much  distress  and  pain  I  was 
causing  him.  When  he  found  that  I  was  coming  back  to 
Christ,  he  was  joyful  beyond  measure.  When  he  heard 
me  preach  on  true  religion,  he  was  in  transports.  At  a 
meeting  that  followed,  he  spoke  with  so  much  feeling  and 
fervor,  that  I  was  obliged  to  try  to  check  him  a  little,  for 
fear  the  violence  of  his  excitement  should  injure  his  feeble 


HIS   SICKNESS  AND   DEATH.  343 

and  failing  health.  My  conversion,  though  but  partial 
then,  gave  him  the  utmost  delight. 

At  length  his  feeble  frame  gave  way,  and  he  sank  into 
his  bed  to  rise  no  more.  He  sent  me  word  that  he  was 
very  desirous  to  see  me,  and  I  visited  him  without  delay. 
He  was  very  ill.  His  voice  was  almost  gone,  and  he  spoke 
with  great  difficulty.  He  told  me  he  wished  me,  when  he 
was  gone,  to  preach  his  funeral  sermon,  and  write  his  epi- 
taph, and  take  charge  of  a  manuscript  containing  the  story 
of  his  life.  I  told  him  I  would  do  so.  He  then  spoke 
of  his  trust  in  God,  his  love  of  Christ,  and  his  hopes  of  a 
blessed  immortality,  while  tears  of  joy  stood  glistening  in 
his  eyes.  He  then  referred  to  some  matters  that  had  tried 
him  sadly,  but  added :  "  I  have  cast  my  care  on  God." 
He  tried  to  speak  of  his  feelings  towards  me,  but  said : 
"  Those  paj^ers  (referring  to  the  story  of  his  life)  will  tell 
you  all."  At  last  he  said  :  "  Pray  with  me,  Joseph."  I 
had  not  prayed  with  any  one  for  many  years,  but  I  said  at 
once:  "I  will,  Sammy;"  and  I  fell  on  my  knees,  and 
prayed  by  his  side.  He  then,  weak  as  he  was,  prayed 
earnestly  for  me,  and  for  my  wife  and  family. 

He  died  a  few  weeks  after.  I  preached  his  funeral  ser- 
mon on  the  following  Sunday,  in  May,  1863,  in  a  field  near 
the  house  in  which  he  had  lived  and  died,  from  the  text : 
"  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my  last 
end  be  like  his."  There  was  an  immense  congregation, 
consisting  of  people  of  all  denominations,  both  infidel  and 
Christian,  from  every  part  of  the  surrounding  district. 
When  speaking  of  his  conduct  in  clinging  to  the  religion 
of  Christ,  instead  of  following  me  into  the  regions  of  doubt 
and  unbelief,  I  declared  my  conviction  that  he  had  done 
right.  *He  had  read  little,"  said  I,  "and  I  had  read 
nmch :  yet  he  was  the  wiser  man  of  the  two.  His  good 
religious  instincts  and  feelings  kept  him  right,  and  kept 
him  happy  in  the  warmth  and  sunlight  of  the  religion 
of  Christ ;  while  my  vain  reasonings  carried  me  astray  into 
the  dark  and  chilling  regions  of  eternal  cold  and  utter 
desolation.  There  is  a  seeming  wisdom  that  is  foolishness ; 
and  there  is  a  childlike,  artless  simplicity  of  faith,  which, 
while  it  is  regarded  as  foolishness  by  many,  is  in  truth  the 
perfection  of  wisdom.     There  are  things  which  are  hid 


344  HIS  FUNEEAL  SEEMON. 

from  the  wise  and  prudent,  that  are  revealed  to  babes. 
And  Jesus  was  right,  when,  addressing  the  self-conceited 
skeptical  critics  of  His  day,  He  said :  '  Except  ye  be  con- 
verted and  become  as  little  children,  ye  cannot  enter  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.'  My  dear  departed  friend,  when 
trusting  in  God  as  his  Father,  and  in  Christ  as  his  Saviour, 
and  living  a  godly  life,  was  right,  while  I,  in  distrusting 
the  promptings  of  my  religious  instincts  and  affections,  and 
committing  myself  to  the  reasonings  of  a  cold  and  heartless 
logic,  was  wrong.  The  new-born  babe,  that  rests  untrou- 
bled in  its  mother's  arms,  and,  without  misgiving,  sucks 
from  her  breast  the  milk  so  wonderfully  provided  for  it, 
does  the  best  and  wisest  thing  conceivable.  In  obeying  its 
instincts,  it  obeys  the  great  good  Author  of  its  being,  and 
lives.  If — to  suppose  what  is  happily  an  impossibility — 
if  the  child  should  discard  its  instincts,  and  refuse  to  trust 
its  mother,  till  it  had  logical  proof  of  her  trustworthiness ; 
and,  distrusting  its  natural  cravings,  should  refuse  to 
take  the  nutriment  provided  for  it,  till  it  could  ascertain 
by  chemical  analysis  and  physiological  investigation,  that  it 
was  just  the  kind  of  food  which  it  required,  it  would  die. 
My  departed  friend  was  the  happy,  confiding  child,  and 
saved  his  soul  alive ;  while  I  was  the  analytical  and  logical 
doubter,  and  all  but  starved  my  miserable  soul  to  death. 
Thank  God,  I  have  lived  to  see  my  error.  The  loving, 
trusting  Christian  is  right.  The  religion  of  Jesus  is  sub- 
stantially true  and  divine ;  and,  thus  far,  I  declare  myself 
a  Christian." 

It  was  a  beautiful,  summer-like  day.  The  sun  shone 
brightly,  and  the  winds  were  low,  and  the  vast  congrega- 
tion was  orderly  and  attentive,  and  many  were  much 
affected.  The  report  that  I  had  declared  myself  a  Chris- 
tian, without  any  qualification  annexed,  got  into  the  papers, 
and  ran  through  the  country.  To  many  it  gave  the  great- 
est satisfaction.  Good,  kind  Christians  came  round  me 
wherever  I  went,  testifying  their  delight  and  gratitude. 
Some  wept  for  joy.  Unbelievers  were  greatly  annoyed  at 
the  tidings  of  my  conversion,  and  some  of  them  came  and 
entreated  me  to  give  the  report  a  public  contradiction. 
This  I  refused  to  do.  True,  the  papers  said  somewhat 
more  than  I  had  said ;  but  the  statement  they  gave  was 


MY  STORY  CONTINUED.      OTHER   FRIENDS.  345 

true  in  substance,  so  I  let  it  pass,  and  the  growing  change 
for  the  better  in  my  views  and  feelings  soon  made  it  true 
in  form. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

PARTIES  WHO  CONTRIBUTED   TOWARDS    MY   RETURN    TO 

CHRIST. 

After  I  fell  into  doubt  and  unbelief,  the  Church,  and  the 
ministry  generally,  appeared  to  look  on  me  as  irretrievably 
lost.  The  great  mass  of  them  made  no  attempt  for  my 
recovery.  How  much  they  cared  for  my  soul  I  do  not 
know ;  but  for  nearly  twenty  years  they  left  me  to  wander 
as  a  sheep  that  had  no  shepherd.  Many  of  them  spoke 
against  me,  and  wrote  against  me,  and  some  of  them  even 
met  me  in  public  discussion;  but  they  never  approached 
me  in  the  spirit  of  gentleness  and  love,  to  try  to  win  me 
back  to  Christ,  and  bring  me  once  more  into  His  Church. 
Some  of  them  treated  me  with  grievous  injustice.  As  I 
have  said  some  pages  back,  one  minister  made  himself  most 
odious  to  me  and  my  friends,  and  did  something  towards 
increasing  our  antipathy  to  the  religion  which  he  so  gross- 
ly dishonored,  by  his  unjust  and  hateful  doings.  It  is  bad 
for  Christianity  when  men  like  these  are  put  forward  as 
its  advocates.  No  open  enemies  can  do  it  so  much  injury 
as  such  unworthy  friends. 

There  were  others,  however,  who  took  a  more  Christian 
course,  and  if  they  did  not  succeed  in  at  once  reclaiming 
me  from  my  melancholy  delusions,  they  produced  a  happy 
effect  on  my  mind,  which  helped  to  bring  about,  in  the 
end,  my  return  to  the  Christian  faith. 

1.  There  was  one  man,  a  minister,  who,  though  he  wrote 
against  some  of  my  views,  always  treated  me  with  respect. 
He  never  gave  me  offensive  names,  nor  charged  me  with 
unworthy  motives,  nor  treated  me  with  affected  contempt. 
He  regarded  me  simply  as  an  erring  brother,  and  strove, 
with  genuine  Christian  affection,  to  bring  me  back  to  what 
he  regarded  as  the  truth.     He  died  before  my  restoration 


346  REV.    ME.    WALKEK   OF   OHIO.. 

to  the  Church,  but  his  labors  on  my  behalf  were  not  in 
vain. 

2.  A  kind-hearted  layman  once  sent  me  a  book — "  The 
Philosophy  of  the  Plan  of  Salvation,'' — accompanied  w'lih.  a 
short,  but  affectionate  letter.  Tlie  book  did  not  convert 
me,  but  the  kindness  of  the  friend  that  sent  it  had  a  happy 
effect.  Though  beyond  the  reach  of  logic,  I  was  within 
the  reach  of  love. 

3.  The  Author  of  "  The  Philosophy  of  the  Plan  of  Solva- 
tion" was  Mr.  Walker,  a  minister  of  Mansfield,  Ohio. 
While  in  America  I  gave  a  course  of  lectures  in  that  town 
on  the  Bible.  The  friend  at  whose  house  I  was  staying 
took  me  to  see  Mr.  Walker,  who  received  me  with  great 
kindness,  invited  me  to  dine  with  him,  and  conversed  with 
me  in  a  truly  Christian  manner.  He  even  came  to  one 
of  my  lectures,  in  hopes  of  helping  me  over  the  difficulties 
which  blocked  my  way  to  the  faith  of  Christ.  I  did  not, 
however,  treat  him  with  the  kind  and  considerate  tender- 
ness with  which  he  had  treated  me.  I  was  under  unhappy 
influences,  and  I  spoke  on  the  Bible  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  try  him  past  endurance,  and  he  left  me  that  night  with 
very  painful  feelings,  regarding  me,  probably,  as  lost  past 
hope.  Should  he  read  this  work,  it  may  give  him  satis- 
faction to  know,  that  his  kindness,  and  his  work  on  Christ 
as  a  revelation  of  the  Eternal  Father,  had  a  part  in  helping 
me  back  to  the  religion  of  Christ. 

4.  Five  years  ago  last  December,  Mr.  John  Mawson, 
Sheriff  of  Newcastle-on-Tyne,  was  killed  on  the  Town 
Moor  by  a  terrible  explosion  of  nitro-glycerine.  I  had 
been  acquainted  with  him  more  than  five-and-twenty  years. 
He  joined  the  church  at  Newcastle,  of  which  I  was  a 
minister,  and  remained  my  friend  to  the  last.  He  had  his 
doubts  on  certain  points  of  theology,  but  he  never  lost  his 
faith  in  the  great  principles  of  Christianity.  When  I  was 
over  from  America  once,  I  spent  sometime  in  his  company, 
and  we  had  frequent  conversations  on  religion.  "  It  seems 
to  me,"  said  he,  "  that  we  ought  to  put  some  trust  in  our 
hearts.  My  head  has  often  tempted  me  to  doubt ;  but  my 
heart  has  always  clung  to  God  and  immortality.  It  does  so 
still ;  and  I  believe  it  is  right.  Indeed,  I  liave  no  doubt 
of  it."     I  remembered  his  words.     They  led  me  to  study 


ME.   JOHN  MAWSON   OF   NEWCASTLE.  347 

the  moral  and  spiritual  instincts  of  my  nature  more 
thoroughly  than  I  had  done  before.  They  led  me  to  study 
the  subject  of  instinct  and  natural  affection  generally.  Ily 
instincts,  like  the  instincts  of  my  friend,  had  always  clung 
to  God  and  a  future  life,  and  to  the  principles  of  religion 
and  virtue,  even  when  reason  hesitated  and  doubted  most. 
I  had  never  given  up  my  belief  in  any  of  the  great  doctrines 
of  Christianity  without  a  painful  struggle.  But  I  had 
been  led  to  think  it  my  duty,  when  there  was  a  conflict 
between  my  head  and  my  heart,  to  take  part  with  my 
head.  My  heart,  for  instance,  would  say,  "  Pray  ;"  but 
reason,  or  something  in  the  garb  of  reason,  would  say, 
"  Don't.  If  what  you  desire  is  good,  God  will  give  it  you, 
whether  you  pray  for  it  or  not ;  and  if  it  be  evil.  He  will 
withhold  it,  pray  as  you  may.  Prayer  may  move  a  man 
like  yourself;  but  it  cannot  move  God."  And  I  hearkened 
to  the  seeming  reason,  and  gave  up  prayer.  My  heart  said, 
"  There  is  a  personal,  conscious,  all-perfect  God."  My 
head,  or  my  infidel  philosophy  said,  "  There  cannot  be 
such  a  God.  A  God  all-powerful  could  prevent  evil.  A 
God  all-good  would  prevent  it.  God  cannot  therefore  be 
a  conscious,  personal,  all-perfect  being.  He  must  be  a 
blind,  unconscious  power ;  the  sum  total  of  natural  tenden- 
cies, working  according  to  the  eternal  properties  of  things, 
without  the  possibility  of  change  ;  and  hence  the  existence 
of  evil,  and  the  prevalence  of  eternal,  unalterable  law."  And 
here  again  my  head  was  permitted  to  prevail,  and  my  heart, 
in  spite  of  all  its  remonstrances,  was  compelled  to  give  way. 
And  with  a  personal,  conscious,  all-perfect  God,  went  the 
richest  treasures  of  the  human  heart, — trust  in  a  Fatherly 
Providence ;  the  hope  of  a  blessed  immortality,  and  faith  in 
the  ultimate  triumph  of  truth  and  justice,  and  all  assurance 
of  human  progress  and  a  good  time  coming. 

Yet  I  was  obliged,  in  spite  of  the  false  philosophical 
principle  I  had  adopted,  to  accept  the  oracles  of  my  heart 
on  many  points,  and  to  reject  the  logic  of  my  head.  My 
heart  said,  "  Speak  the  truth ;  to  lie  is  wrong."  But  now 
that  it  had  got  rid  of  a  personal  God,  logic  said,  "  There 
can  be  nothing  wrong  in  a  lie  that  hurts  no  one.  There 
is  something  commendable  in  a  useful,  serviceable  lie.  To 
lie  to  save  a  person  from  danger  or  destruction  is  a  virtue. 


348  HORROES    OF   ATHEISM. 

The  feeling  which  shrhiks  from  such  a  lie  is  a  blind, 
irrational  prejudice,  and  should  be  plucked  up  and  cast  out 
of  the  soul.  Truth  may  be  proper  enough  in  the  strong  : 
but  deceit  is  the  wisdom  of  the  weakj'  But  in  this  case 
my  heart,  my  instinctive  love  of  truth,  prevailed. 

Again,  my  heart  pleaded  for  justice  and  mercy  ;  for  jus- 
tice to  all ;  and  for  mercy  to  the  needy  and  helpless. 
But  reason,  or  the  heartless  and  godless  philosophy  that 
usurped  its  name,  said,  "  Utility  is  the  supreme  law ;  the 
only  law  of  man.  Justice  and  mercy  are  right  when  they 
are  useful ;  but  when  they  are  hurtful  they  are  right  no 
longer.  If  by  destroying  the  heljjless  and  the  needy  we 
can  deliver  them  from  their  misery,  and  increase  the  happi- 
ness of  the  rest  of  our  race,  their  destruction  is  a  virtue, 
especially  if  we  dispose  of  them  in  a  quiet  and  painless 
way,  so  as  to  spare  them  the  fears  and  agonies  of  death  !" 
But  here  again  my  heart  prevailed.  My  natural,  unreason- 
ing, instinctive  horror  of  injustice  and  murder  rendered  the 
specious  pleadings  of  Atheistic  utilitarianism  powerless. 
And  so  on  moral  matters  generally. 

As  a  rule,  Atheists  succeed,  in  course  of  time,  in  van- 
quishing and  destroying  their  moral  as  well  as  their  re- 
ligious instincts,  and  then  they  embrace  the  most  revolting 
doctrines,  and  reconcile  themselves  to  the  most  appalling 
deeds.  They  look  on  marriage  as  irrational,  and  regard 
modesty  and  chastity  as  vices.  Shame  is  a  weakness  in 
their  eyes,  and  natural  aifections  are  irrational  prejudices. 
Scruples  against  lying,  theft  and  murder,  when  any  great 
good  is  to  be  gained  by  those  practices,  are  insanity. 
Gratitude,  even  to  parents,  is  an  absurdity.  Free  indul- 
gence, unlimited  license,  is  a  virtue.  The  curse  of  our 
race  is  religion.  The  one  great  social  evil  is  a  surplus  popu- 
lation ;  and  the  prevention  or  destruction  of  children  is  tlie 
sum  of  social  science  and  virtue.  The  extinction  of  the  weaker 
races,  and  the  destruction  of  those  of  every  race  who  cannot 
contribute  their  share  of  wealth  and  pleasure  to  the  com- 
mon stock,  is  the  perfection  of  philosophy.  In  short,  all 
the  old-fashioned  principles  of  virtue,  honor,  conscience, 
generosity,  self-restraint,  self-sacrifice,  and  natural  affection 
are  exploded,  and  in  their  place  there  comes  a  black  and  hid- 
eous chaos  of  all  indecencies  and  immoralities,  a  boundless 


ANOTHER   GOOD   CLERGYMAN.  349 

and  bottomless  abyss  of  all  imaginable  and  unspeakable 
horrors.  I  shudder  when  I  think  how  near  I  came  to  this 
hell  of  atheistical  philosophy.  My  inability  entirely  to  ex- 
tinguish my  better  instincts  and  affections,  prevented  me 
from  plunging  headlong  into  its  frightful  depths.  It  was 
more  than  I  could  do  to  carry  out  the  atheistical  principles 
of  mere  theoretical  reasoning  to  its  last  results.  I  was, 
thank  God,  on  some  points,  always  inconsistent,  and  my 
inconsistency  was  my  salvation.  My  heart  preserved  me 
in  spite  of  my  head. 

But  if  I  could  not  carry  out  my  principle  of  trusting  to 
mere  reasoning  to  its  full  extent,  why  did  I  act  on  it  at  all  ? 
When  I  found  that  it  led  to  utter  degradation  and  ruin, 
why  did  I  not  renounce  it,  and  trust  once  more  in  my  na- 
tive instincts  ?  When  I  found  myself  obliged  to  follow 
my  heart  in  so  many  matters,  why  not  follow  it  in  all  ?  I 
answer,  I  had  not  a  sufficient  understanding  of  the  matter. 
1  wanted  more  light.  But  the  course  of  study  on  which 
the  remarks  of  my  dear  good  friend  Mr.  Mawson  led  me 
to  enter,  led  to  clearer  and  correcter  views  on  the  subject. 
It  led  to  the  conviction  that  instinct  and  natural  affection 
are  divine  inspirations, — that  the  beliefs  and  practices  to 
which  they  constrain  us  are  the  perfection  of  wisdom  and 
goodness, — that  to  set  them  aside  is  inevitable  ruin, — that 
whenever  reason  says  one  thing,  and  our  religious  and 
moral  affections  and  instincts  say  another,  we  ought  to  turn 
a  deaf  ear  to  reason,  and  follow  implicitly  the  dictates  of  our 
moral  and  religious  faculties.  And  to  this  conviction,  re- 
sulting in  a  great  measure  from  the  remarks  of  my  faithful 
and  devoted  friend,  I  owe,  in  part,  my  present  unspeakable 
happiness  as  a  believer  in  Christ. 

5.  I  encountered  two  Christian  men  in  public  discussion 
M'ho  left  a  favorable  impression  on  my  mind.  One  was 
the  Rev.  Andrew  Loose,  of  Winchester,  Indiana.  The 
subject  of  discussion  between  me  and  Mr.  Loose  was 
the  divine  authority  of  the  Bible.  He  went  through  the 
W'hole  debate,  which  lasted  several  days,  without  uttering 
one  uncharitable,  scornful,  or  angry  word,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  single  phrase  in  his  last  speech  ;  and  even  that 
he  meekly  and  generously  recalled,  after  I  had  satisfied 
him  of  its  impropriety.     I  never  forgot  the  conduct  of  that 


350  GOOD   LAYMEN   AND   MINISTERS. 

dear  good  man,  and  his  Christian  meekness  and  forbear- 
ance had  a  good  efifect  on  my  hCart. 

6.  The  other  gentleman  whose  conduct  left  the  most  fa- 
vorable impression  of  all  on  my  mind,  was  Colonel  Shaw, 
of  Bourtree  Park,  Ayr,  Scotland,  of  whose  gentlemanly 
behavior  and  great  Christian  kindness  I  have  already 
spoken. 

7.  There  were  some  other  persons  who,  without  assailing 
me  with  argument,  did  me  considerable  good.  After  lec- 
turing at  Burnley  once,  a  person  rose  to  oppose  me,  and  a 
great  disturbance  followed.  I  was  thrown  from  the  plat- 
form, and  fell  backward  on  the  floor,  and  a  crowd  of  per- 
sons fell  upon  me,  and  I  had  a  narrow  escape  from  death 
by  violence  and  suffocation.  I  was  rescued  however  alive. 
In  the  tumult  my  overcoat,  my  hat,  and  my  watch  disap- 
peared, and  my  body  was  somewhat  bruised.  Next  day  a 
gentleman  who  had  heard  of  the  way  in  which  I  had  been 
treated,  came  to  my  lodgings  to  see  me.  He  seemed  very 
much  distressed  on  my  account,  and  anxious,  if  possible, 
to  do  something  which  might  minister  comfort  to  ray  mind. 
His  name  was  Philips.  He  was  a  Methodist,  and  the  son 
of  a  Methodist  preacher.  His  kindness  and  sympathy 
were  so  genuine  and  so  earnest,  that  they  made  a  deep  im- 
pression on  my  mind,  and  tliey  naturally  recur  to  my 
memory  when  I  think  of  the  friends  whose  influence  helped 
to  reclaim  me  from  the  miseries  of  doubt  and  unbelief. 

8.  About  thirteen  years  ago  I  lectured  at  Bacup.  The 
Rev,  T.  Lawson,  Congregational  minister  of  Bacup,  at- 
tended my  lectures,  and  came  and  spoke  tO'  me  afterwards, 
and  invited  me  to  call  and  see  him,  and  dine  M^ith  him. 
I  went,  and  we  had  a  lengthened  conversation  on  matters 
pertaining  to  religion  and  the  Church.  My  host  exhibited 
a  remarkable  amount  of  Christian  charity  and  true  liber- 
ality of  sentiment.  He  had  been  a  reader  of  mine  in  his 
earlier  days,  when  I  was  an  advocate  of  Evangelical  re- 
form, and  he  spoke  of  himself  as  my  debtor ;  and  he  was 
desirous,  if  possible,  of  repaying  the  debt,  by  smoothing 
the  way  for  my  rctam  to  Christianity.  Mrs.  Lawson  sat 
and  listened  to  our  conversation  in  silence ;  but  when  I 
rose  to  take  my  leave,  she  bade  me  good-bye  with  most 
unmistakable  evidences  of  interest  in  my  welfare,  and  said, 


A   GOOD    BAPTIST   MINISTER.  351 

as  she  held  me  by  the  hand,  "I  hope  we  sliftil  meet  yon  in 
heaven."  I  had  one  or  two  other  interviews  with  Mr. 
Lawson  at  a  somewhat  later  period,  and  all  are  to  be  placed 
among  the  means  by  which  I  was  brought  to  my  present 
happy  position. 

9.  Some  nineteen  years  ago  I  had  a  public  discussion 
with  the  Rev.  Charles  Williams,  Baptist  minister,  of  Ac- 
criugton.  It  was  a  very  unpleasant  affair.  I  was  much 
exhausted  at  the  time  with  over  much  work,  and  with  long- 
continued  and  painful  excitement  caused  by  a  very  iin- 
pleasant  piece  of  business  which  I  had  in  hand ;  and  I 
did  what  I  honorably  could  to  avoid  the  discussion.  My 
friends,  however,  would  have  no  nay,  and  I  reluctantly, 
and  in  anything  but  an  amiable  temper,  made  my  appear- 
ance at  the  time  appointed  on  the  platform.  How  far  the 
blame  was  chargeable  on  me,  or  how  far  it  was  chargeable 
on  others,  I  do  not  know ;  but  the  first  night's  meeting 
was  a  very  disagreeable  one.  I  thought  myself  in  the  right 
at  the  time,  but  I  fancy  my  unhappy  state  of  mind  must 
have  rendered  me  very  provoking,  and  at  the  same  time 
blinded  me  to  the  real  character  of  my  proceedings.  On 
the  following  night  the  discussion  went  on  more  smoothly, 
and  it  ended  better  than  it  began.  I  was  constrained  to 
regard  Mr.  Williams  as  an  able  and  good  man.  I  met  him 
occasionally  after  my  separation  from  the  Secularists,  and 
his  behaviour  and  spirit  deepened  the  favorable  impression 
of  his  character  already  made  on  my  mind.  While  I  was 
at  Burnley  he  delivered  a  lecture  in  that  town  on  Bishop 
Colenso's  work  on  the  Pentateuch.  I  w^as  present.  When 
he  had  done,  he  invited  me  in  the  kindest  way  imaginable 
to  speak.  I  had  heard  next  to  nothing  in  the  lecture  to 
which  I  could  object,  but  much  that  I  could  heartily  ap- 
prove and  applaud.  To  all  that  he  had  said  in  praise 
of  the  Bible  I  could  subscribe  most  heartily.  Indeed  I 
felt  that  the  Bible  was  worthy  of  more  and  higher  praise 
than  he  had  bestowed  on  it,  and  I  expressed  myself  to  that 
effect.  The  meeting  altogether  was  a  very  pleasant  one, 
except  to  a  number  of  unbelievers,  who  were  dreadfully 
vexed  at  my  remarks  in  commendation  of  the  Bible.  I 
saw  Mr.  Williams  repeatedly  afterwards,  and  his  kind  and 
interesting  conversation,  and   his  very  gentlemanly  and 


352  A   CATHOLIC   PROPHETESS. 

Christian  demeanor,  had  always  a  beneficial  effect  on  my 
mind. 

10.  One  of  the  first  to  express  a  conviction  that  I  should 
become  a  Christian  was  an  American  lady,  whom  I  some- 
times saw  in  London.  She  had  herself  been  an  unbeliever, 
but  had  been  cured  of  her  skepticism  by  spiritualism.  She 
was  then  a  Catholic.  She  gave  me  a  medal  of  the  Virgin 
Mary,  and  entreated  me  to  wear  it  round  my  neck.  To 
please  her  I  promised  to  do  so.  But  the  medal  disappeared 
before  long,  and  what  became  of  it  I  never  could  tell ;  but 
my  friend  had  the  satisfaction  to  see  her  prophecy  fulfilled 
in  my  happy  return  to  Christianity. 

11.  An  acquaintance  which  I  formed  with  the  Rev.  W. 
Newton,  of  Newcastle-on-Tyne,  must  also  be  reckoned 
among  the  things  which  exerted  an  influence  on  my  mind 
favorable  to  Christianity.  Mr.  Newton  had  been  a  Baptist 
in  his  earlier  days,  but  getting  into  perplexity  with  regard 
to  certain  doctrines,  he  became  a  Unitarian.  He  came  to 
feel  however,  in  course  of  time,  that  something  more  than 
Unitarianisra  was  necessary  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  soul, 
and  to  the  salvation  of  the  world ;  and  at  the  time  that  I 
became  acquainted  with  him,  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to 
leave  the  Unitarians.  On  my  way  to  the  far-off  regions 
of  unbelief,  I  had  passed  through  the  Unitarian  territory  ; 
and  I  passed  through  the  same  territory,  or  near  to  its 
border,  on  my  return  to  Christianity ;  and  had  it  not  been 
for  my  interviews  with  Mr.  Newton,  and  a  somewhat  start- 
ling event  or  two  that  occurred  about  that  period,  I  might 
have  lingered  for  a  time  in  that  cold  and  hungry  land. 
Mr.  Newton  helped  to  quicken  my  steps,  and  I  moved  on- 
ward, and  rested  not,  till  I  found  my  way  back  to  the  para- 
dise, or  a  garden  that  very  much  resembled  the  paradise, 
of  my  earlier  days. 

12.  Mr.  J.  Potte,  like  Mr.  J.  Mawson,  without  follow- 
ing me  into  the  extremes  of  doubt,  retained  his  friendship 
for  me  through  all  my  wanderings,  and  never  neglected 
any  opportunity  he  had  of  showing  me  kindness.  And 
others,  whom  I  cannot  take  the  liberty  to  name,  evinced 
the  same  unfailing  constancy  of  esteem  and  love.  And 
the  unbroken  connexion  that  remained  between  my  endur- 
ing friends  and  their  amiable  families  and  myself,  added  to 


ME.   WM.   WHITE.      EEV.   DE.   COOKE.  353 

the  attractions  Christ-ward,  and  made  it  easier  for  my  soul 
to  return  at  last  to  its  home  of  peace  and  rest. 
^    13.  Between  thirteen  and  fourteen  years  ago,  while  living 
m  London,  I  became  acquainted  with  Mr.  W.  White      He 
had  been  reared  a  Quaker,  but,  like  most  hard  thinkers 
had  had  experience  of  doubt,  and  was,  in  consequence! 
alter  his  faith  was  re-established,  able  to  strengthen  his 
doubtmg  brethren.    He  contributed  to  my  conversion,  first 
by  his  enlightened  conversation,  and  then  by  a  long,  kind 
Christian  letter  on  the  Bible,  by  which  he  helped  me  over 
a  number  of  difficulties  which  stood  in  the  way  of  my 

14.  But  perhaps  none  of  the  parties  I  have  named  had 
a  more  powerful  and  beneficial  effect  on  my  mind  than  one 
whom  I  have  not  yet  mentioned.  If  I  had  been  asked 
thirteen  years  ago,  whether  I  supposed  there  was  any 
minister  in  the  Methodist  New  Connexion  who  regarded 
me  with  affectionate  solicitude,  and  who  was  wishful  for 
an  opportunity  to  speak  to  me  words  of  love  and  ten- 
derness, I  should  have  answered,  "No."  If  any  one  had 
told  me  that  there  really  was  one  of  my  old  associates, 
with  whom  I  had  formerly  had  warm  controversy,  not  only 
on  matters  theological,  but  on  matters  personal,  who  had 
been  watching  my  career  for  years  witli  the  deepest  in- 
terest, and  who  for  months  and  years  had  been  earnestly 
praying  for  me  every  day,  he  would  have  seemed  to  me  as 
one  amusing  himself  with  fables.     Yet  such  was  really  the 


case 


^    With  no  one  had  I  come  in  closer  contact  perhaps  or 
w°J?^®  frequent  and  violent  collision,  than  with  the  Rev 
W.  Cooke,  now  Dr.  Cooke.     He  had  taken  the  lead  in  the 
proceedings  against  me  in  the  Ashton  Conference,  on  ac- 
count of  my  article  on  Toleration,  Human  Creeds,  &g  ,  pro- 
ceedings which  had  a  most  unhappy  effect  on  my  mind 
and   which   led,  at   length,  to   my  separation  from   the 
Church,  and  to  my  alienation  from  Christ.     He  had  taken 
an  active  part  in  the  violent  controversies  which  followed 
my  expulsion  from  the  ministry.     We  had,  at  a  later  pe- 
riod, spent  ten  nights  in  public  discussion  on  the  leading 
doctrines  of  Christianity.     He  had,  in  the  performance 
what  he  considered  his  duty  I  suppose  in  my  case,  said 


354  DR.  cooke's  visit,  &c. 

things  which  had  tried  me  terribly;  and  I,  with  ideas 
of  duty  differing  from  his,  had  made  him  very  liberal  re- 
turns, in  a  way  not  calculated  to  leave  the  most  favorable 
or  comfortable  impressions  on  his  mind  towards  me.  I 
had  never  seen  him  since  our  long  discussion  but  once,  and 
then  he  seemed,  to  my  fancy,  to  be  struggling  with  an  in- 
ward tempest  of  very  unhappy  feeling  towards  me,  which 
he  was  hardly  able  to  keep  from  exploding.  I  afterwards 
found  though,  that  I  had  not  interpreted  His  looks  on  this 
occasion  correctly.  At  the  time  when  I  took  my  leave 
of  the  Secularists,  my  unpleasant  feelings  towards  my  old 
opponent  had  about  subsided ;  but  I  had  no  idea  that  his 
unpleasant  feelings  towards  me  had  passed  away.  Yet 
such  was  the  case.  He  had  been  reading  my  periodical  for 
some  time,  and  had  been  pleased  to  find  that  both  on  reli- 
gion and  politics,  I  was  returning,  though  slowly,  to  the 
views  of  my  happier  days.  Some  time  in  August,  1862, 
he  called  at  my  office  in  London,  with  a  parcel  of  books 
under  his  arm.  He  had  been  praying  for  me  daily  for 
twelve  months,  when  something  seemed  to  say  to  him, 
"  You  should  do  something  more  than  pray."  And  now  he 
had  come  to  try  what  he  could  do  by  a  personal  interview 
to  aid  the  wanderer's  return  to  Christ.  I  was  from  home 
at  the  time,  but  my  eldest  son  was  in  the  office,  and  he 
and  the  Doctor  were  at  once  engaged  in  friendly  conversa- 
tion. "  How  like  you  are  to  what  your  father  was  four 
and  thirty  years  ago,  when  I  first  knew  him,"  said  the 
Doctor.  "  Your  father  and  I  were  great  friends.  It  was 
your  father  that  first  directed  me  to  the  study  of  Latin  and 
Greek,  which  have  been  of  great  service  to  me;  and  I  feel 
indebted  to  him  on  that  account.  We  were  afterwards 
separated.  But  I  have  observed,  as  I  think,  symptoms 
that  your  father  is  returning  towards  his  former  views." 
And  many  other  kind  remarks  he  made.  At  length  he 
said,  "  Do  you  think  your  father  would  accept  a  copy 
of  my  works?"  My  son,  who  knew  the  state  of  his  fa- 
ther's mind,  answered;  "I  am  sure  he  would,  with  great 
pleasure."  The  Doctor  left  copies  of  his  works,  kindly  in- 
scribed to  me  with  his  own  hand  ;  and  with  the  books,  he 
left  for  me  a  kind  and  Christian  letter.  IMy  son  lost  no 
time  in  forwarding  me  the  letter,  together  with  an  account 


BY   WHAT  STEPS     I   CAME   TO   CHRIST.  355 

of  the  pleasant  and  unlooked-for  interview  which  he  had 
had  with  the  writer.  I  received  the  letter,  and  the  inter- 
esting story  with  which  it  was  accompanied,  with  the 
greatest  astonishment  and  pleasure.  I  wrote  to  the  Doctor, 
reciprocating  his  expressions  of  kindness,  and  making  the 
best  returns  I  could  for  the  valuable  present  of  his  works. 
The  result  was  a  correspondence,  which  has  continued  to 
the  present  time.  The  correspondence  led  to  interviews, 
in  which  the  Doctor  exhibited,  in  a  very  striking  manner, 
the  graces  and  virtues  that  adorn  the  Christian  character. 
We  talked,  we  read,  we  sang,  we  prayed  together,  and  gave 
God  thanks,  with  tears  of  gratitude,  for  all  the  blessings 
of  His  boundless  love. 

The  effect  of  this  kindness  on  the  part  of  Dr.  Cooke  was, 
not  only  to  free  my  mind  from  any  remains  of  hurtful  feel- 
ings towards  him,  but  to  dispose  me,  and  enable  me,  to  re- 
view the  claims  of  Christianity  and  the  Bible  in  a  spirit 
of  greater  fairness  and  candor,  and  so  to  make  it  possible 
for  me  to  become,  what  I  had  long  believed  I  never  could 
become,  a  hearty  believer  in  the  religion  of  Christ. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

80ME   OP    THE    STEPS    BY    WHICH    I   CAME   TO   FAITH   IN 

CHRIST. 

I  am  not  certain  that  I  can  state  the  exact  process  by 
which  I  passed  from  doubt  and  unbelief  to  faith  in  Christ, 
but  the  following,  I  believe,  is  very  near  the  truth. 

1.  There  was,  first,  a  sense  of  the  cheerlessness  of  unbe- 
lief—the  sadness  and  the  sorrow  resulting  from  the.  loss 
of  trust  in  God  and  hope  of  immortality,  and  from'  the 
wretched  prospect  of  a  return  to  utter  nothingness.  » 

2.  Then  came  the  distressing  feeling  of  inability  to  com- 
fort my  afflicted  or  dying  friends — my  utter  helplessness  in 
the  presence  of  sorrow,  grief  and  agony. 

3.  And  then  I  found  myself  unable  to  account  for  the 
wonderful  marks  of  design  appearing  in  nature,  and  espe- 
cially in  my  own  body,  without  the  acknowledgment  of  an 


356  MAD   ATHEISTIC  THEORIES. 

intelligent  Deity.  The  wonderful  perfection  and  beauty 
of  a  flower  or  a  feather  woulcT  confound  me ;  while  myste- 
rious adaptations  in  my  own  frame  would  fill  me  with 
amazement.  Darwin's  theory  of  development  relieved  me 
for  a  time;  but  I  soon  came  to  see  that  some  of  his  expla- 
nations of  natural  phenomena  were  erroneous,  and  that 
none  of  his  facts  proved  the  truth  of  his  theory.  Still 
later  I  found  that  Darwin  himself  acknowledged  that  the 
evidences  of  design  in  the  methods  by  which  certain  species 
of  plants  were  fertilized,  were  not  only  overpowering,  but 
startling. 

4.  Then  came  dissatisfaction  with  the  theories  by  which 
unbelievers  sought  to  account  for  the  existence  and  order 
of  the  universe.  They  supposed  the  universe  to  be  eternal, 
and  attributed  the  production  of  plants,  and  animals,  and 
man  to  the  blind  unconscious  working  of  lifeless  matter. 
They  attributed  to  dead  matter  the  powers  which  believers 
attributed  to  a  living  God.  They  were  obliged  to  believe 
that  senseless  atoms  could  produce  works  transcending  the 
powers  of  the  mightiest  minds  on  earth.  To  reconcile 
their  belief  in  the  eternity  of  the  vmiverse,  and  in  the 
unchanging  properties  of  matter,  with  the  phenomena 
of  change  and  progress,  they  supposed  an  infinite  succes- 
sion of  worlds,  or  of  beginnings  and  endings  of  the  same 
world,  and  imagined  the  earth  running  exactly  the  same 
course,  and  having  exactly  the  same  history,  every  time  it 
came  into  existence.  Hence  it  became  with  them  an  ar- 
ticle of  faith,  that  we  had  ourselves  lived  an  infinite  num- 
ber of  times,  and  should  live  an  infinite  number  of  times 
more  in  the  future,  repeating  always  exactly  the  same  life, 
with  exactly  the  same  results.  It  was  also  an  article  of  faith 
that  we  were  mere  machines,  governed  by  powers  over 
which  we  had  no  control ;  that  our  ideas  of  liberty,  and 
our  feelings  of  responsibility,  or  of  good  and  ill  desert, 
were  all  delusions ;  that  all  the  errors,  and  crimes,  and 
miseries  of  our  race  were  inevitable,  and  were  to  be  eternally 
repeated  ;  and  that  a  change  for  the  better  was  eternally 
impossible.  But  time  would  fail  me  to  mention  all  their 
theories.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  the  wild  and  unsatisfac- 
tory nature  of  these  dreams  helped  to  drive  me  back  to 
Christianity. 


MISERIES    OF     ATHEISM.  357 

5.  There  was,  of  course,  no  tendency  in  unbelief  to  pro- 
mote virtue,  or  to  check  vice.  Its  natural  tendency  was 
to  utter  depravity.  And  Christianity  retained  such  an  in- 
fluence over  me,  even  to  the  last,  that  I  could  never  recon- 
cile myself  to  a  vicious  life. 

6.  Then  came  another  trouble.  Infidelity  could  give  no 
guarantee  that  wrong  should  not  finally  triumph,  and  right 
be  finally  crushed.  It  is  belief  in  God  alone  that  can 
give  assurance  that  virtue  shall  be  ultimately  rewarded, 
and  vice  ultimately  punished.  The  Christian  can  believe 
past  doubt,  that  "  Whatsoever  a  man  soweth,  that  shall 
he  also  reap;"  that  "with  what  judgment  we  judge,  we 
shall  be  judged ;  and  with  what  measure  we  mete,  it  shall 
be  measured  to  us  again."  But  the  infidel  has  no  founda- 
tion for  such  a  faith.  For  anything  he  knows,  a  man  may 
sow  villany,  and  reap  honor  and  blessedness.  He  may 
live  by  injustice  and  cruelty,  and  meet  with  no  punish- 
ment, either  here  or  hereafter ;  while  another  may  spend 
his  days  in  doing  good,  and  give  his  life  for  the  salvation 
of  his  fellows,  and  receive  only  torture,  reproach,  and 
death. 

Nor  is  there  any  security  for  the  triumph  of  truth 
on  the  infidel  principle.  For  anything  infidelity  knows, 
truth  may  be  always  in  the  mire,  and  its  friends  be  for- 
ever reproached  and  shunned;  while  error  may  always  be 
in  the  ascendant,  and  its  propagators  honored  and  re- 
warded. Indeed  this  is  the  case  at  present,  if  infidelity  be 
true.  For  infidelity  is  in  the  dust,  while  faith  in  God 
and  Christ  is  in  high  repute.  And  infidels  are  suspected 
and  dreaded,  while  consistent  believers  are  loved  and 
trusted.  Faith  smoothes  man's  way  through  life,  and  in 
some  cases  raises  him  to  honor  and  power ;  while  Atheism 
makes  a  man's  pathway  rugged,  and  prevents  his  elevation. 
This  state  of  things  is  exceedingly  unsatisfactory  to  unbe- 
lievers. They  ought,  if  they  are  the  wisest  of  men,  as 
they  suppose,  to  be  everywhere  received  with  honor.  They 
ought  to  be  placed  in  power.  The  world  should  ring  with 
their  praise.  The  universe  should  enrich  them  with  its 
treasures.  The  names  of  their  predecessors  in  unbelief 
should  be  had  in  the  greatest  honor.  They  should  stand 
first  on  the  roll  of  fame.      Their  monuments  should  fill 


358  ATHEISM    MUST   BE   WEOXG, 

the  earth.  The  sweetest  poets  should  slug  their  praises : 
the  most  eloquent  orators  should  proclaim  their  greatness ; 
and  the  nations  should  delight  to  celebrate  their  worth. 
Their  pictures  and  statues  should  grace  our  courts,  our 
temples,  and  our  palaces.  Their  deeds  should  form  the 
staple  of  our  pleasant  histories,  and  their  writings  crowd 
the  shelves  of  our  libraries.  Children  should  be  taught 
to  lisp  their  names  with  reverence,  and  the  aged  should 
bless  them  with  their  parting  breath. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  religion  be  false  and  foolish,  if  it 
be  unnatural  and  mischievous,  its  friends  should  be  pitied 
or  despised,  if  not  rebuked  and  punished.  Its  founders 
and  propagators  should  be  branded  as  the  weakest  or  the 
basest  of  men.  Their  names  should  be  had  in  contempt 
or  abhorrence.  Their  writings  should  be  everywhere  de- 
cried. Their  pictures  and  statues  should  fill  some  chamber 
of  horrors.  Historians,  poets,  and  orators  should  hold 
them  up  to  reprobation.  Christians  should  be  kept  from 
places  of  trust,  and  from  posts  of  honor.  They  should  be 
wretched,  and  poor,  and  miserable,  and  the  hearts  of  men, 
and  the  powers  of  nature,  should  combine  for  their  destruc- 
tion, and  for  the  utter  extinction  of  their  cause. 

Yet  the  state  of  things  is  just  the  contrary.  Christi- 
anity triumphs,  and  Christians  are  honored  ;  while  infi- 
delity languishes,  and  its  disciples  are  covered  with  shame. 
On  the  Atheist's  theory  the  human  race  has  existed  for 
millions  of  years,  yet  it  has  never  produced  more  than  a 
few  individuals  who  have  acknowledged  the  principle 
of  his  creed.  The  mass  of  men,  in  all  ages,  have  been  be- 
lievers in  God.  The  civilized  as  well  as  the  savage,  the 
learned  as  well  as  the  ignorant,  the  high  as  well  as  the 
low,  alike  have  adored  a  Deity.  Even  the  greatest  of  our 
race  have  been  believers.  The  sweetest  poets,  the  pro- 
foundest  philosophers,  the  greatest  statesmen,  the  wisest 
legislators,  the  most  venerable  judges,  the  most  devoted 
philanthropists,  have  all  believed  in  God.  Two  or  three 
tribes  have  been  found,  it  is  said,  without  an  idea  of  God  ; 
but  they  were  savages  of  the  lowest  grade ;  and  it  is  not 
yet  settled  whether  the  accounts  that  have  been  given 
of  those  wretched  creatures  be  correct  or  not. 

And  Atheism  has  always  been  regarded  with  horror.  It 


OR   NOTHING   CAN   BE   EIGHT.  359 

is  SO  still.  It  is  believed  to  be  the  nurse  of  vice  and 
crime.  Atheists  are  everywhere  looked  upon  with  suspi- 
cion and  dread.  The  prevailing  impression  is  that  they 
are  bad  and  dangerous  men, — that  no  reliance  is  to  be 
placed  on  their  word, — that  they  are  naturally  licentious, 
dishonest,  deceitful,  cruel, — that  they  are  prepared  for  any 
enormity, — that  they  are  enemies  to  domestic  purity  and 
civil  order,  and  that  no  one  is  safe  in  their  power.  If  ever 
they  were  regarded  by  mankind  with  favor,  the  time  is 
forgotten.  There  is  not  a  nation  on  earth  in  which  they 
are  popular  now.  They  are  everywhere  branded  as  infa- 
mous. 

If  Atheists  have  always  been  so  bad  as  to  deserve  this 
fate,  their  principles  must  be  bad.  If  they  have  deserved 
a  better  fate, — if  they  have  been  pure,  and  just,  and  true, 
— if  they  have  been  remarkable  for  generosity,  patriotism, 
and  philanthropy, — if  they  have  distinguished  themselves 
as  the  friends  of  virtue,  and  the  benefactors  of  mankind, 
how  sad  to  think  that  they  have  never  received  their  due 
at  the  hands  of  men. 

The  longer  the  Atheists  look  on  their  condition,  the 
less  satisfactory  it  appears.  They  have  no  grand  history, 
no  glorious  names,  to  reflect  honor  on  their  cause.  They 
have  no  noble  army  of  martyrs.  They  have  no  great 
monuments.  And  they  can  have  no  assurance  of  anything 
better  in  days  to  come.  The  probability  is  that  their 
memory  will  rot,  and  that  their  principles  will  be  an  of- 
fence and  loathing  to  mankind  through  all  succeeding 
generations. 

But  look  on  the  other  side  ?  The  highest  name  on 
earth  is  a  religious  name ;  the  name  of  Jesus.  The  names 
which  stand  next  in  honor  are  those  of  His  Apostles  and 
followers.  The  mightiest  nations  on  earth  are  Christian 
nations.  Christians  rule  the  world.  Christian  ministers 
are  honored  and  revered.  Christian  churches  rise  to 
wealth  and  power.  The  Church  controls  the  state.  It 
controls  it  most  when  it  is  least  ambitious,  and  most  con- 
sistent. The  Church  has  a  glorious  history.  It  has  the 
grandest  array  of  honorable  names.  It  has  the  noblest 
army  of  martyrs.  It  ha.s  the  richest  literature.  Its  sacred 
books  are  read  in  all  the  leading  languages  of  the  earth. 


360  ATHEISM    ALL   WRONG. 

The  great  geniuses  are  her's.  The  richest  poetry,  the 
grandest  eloquence,  the  divinest  philosophy,  the  noblest 
courage,  the  richest  generosity,  the  must  devoted  philan- 
thropy, are  all  her's.  She  has  the  credit  of  being  the 
parent  and  the  nurse  of  our  highest  civilization.  She  is 
the  great  educator.  She  builds  our  schools.  She  rules 
our  colleges.  She  controls  the  press.  She  plants  new 
nations.  She  spreads  herself  and  exerts  her  influence  in 
every  land.  You  cannot  destroy  the  Church.  It  is  im- 
mortal. You  cannot  limit  its  power.  It  is  irresistibly 
expansive  and  invincible.  If  at  any  time  it  suffers  loss,  it 
is  through  its  own  unfaithfulness ;  and  a  return  to  duty  is 
a  return  to  dominion. 

Even  in  countries  not  Christian  the  religious  element  is 
supreme,  and  the  religious  men  alone  are  honored.  The 
greatest  names  in  the  history  of  India  and  China,  of  Persia 
and  Turkey,  are  the  names  of  their  prophets  and  religious 
leaders. 

What  follows  from  all  this  ?  That  if  infidelity  be  true 
and  good,  and  religion  false  and  mischievous,  the  world 
and  the  human  race  are  wholly  wrong.  The  best  and  wisest 
men  are  everywhere  despised,  and  the  weakest  and  wickedest 
are  everywhere  honored.  The  originators  of  the  greatest 
delusions  are  deified ;  and  the  revealers  of  the  greatest 
truths  are  regarded  as  monsters.  Truth  no  longer  can  be 
said  to  be  mighty,  and  error  can  no  longer  be  said  to  be 
weak.  The  right  is  no  longer  sure  of  triumph,  nor  the 
wrong  of  overthrow.  Men  love  darkness  and  hate  the 
light ;  and  it  is  not  the  few  that  do  so,  but  the  many.  And 
there  seems  no  hope  of  a  change  for  the  better.  Earth  is 
no  place  for  the  great,  the  good,  the  wise ;  but  for  the 
ignorant,  the  deluded,  and  the  base  alone.  It  is  the  para- 
dise of  fools,  and  the  purgatory  of  philosophers. 

But  I  asked,  "  Is  infidelity  true  and  good,  and  religion 
false  and  mischievous  ?  Am  I  not  laboring  under  some 
monster  delusion  ?  Have  I  not  been  imposed  upon  by  a 
vicious  logic  ?  Are  not  mankind  right  in  hating  and 
dreading  infidelity,  and  in  loving  and  honoring  religion  ? 
There  is  a  tremendous  mistake  somewhere.  Either  infi- 
delity is  wrong,  or  mankind  and  the  universe  are  fearfully 
perverse." 


CHRISTIANITY  IS   GOOD   AND   DOES   GOOD.  361 

7.  And  now  I  began  a  reconsideraCTon  of  the  claims 
of  religion  and  infidelity.  As  I  have  said,  I  re-read  the 
Bible.  I  reviewed  Church  history.  I  examined  the  cha- 
racter and  workings  of  religious  communities.  And  I 
found  the  Bible  a  better  and  a  wiser  book  than  I  had  ever 
imagined.  And  I  found  Christianity,  as  presented  in  the 
teachings  and  life  of  Jesus,  the  fairest  and  loveliest,  the 
most  glorious  and  beneficent  of  all  systems.  I  found  Jesus 
Himself  to  be  the  most  beautiful  and  exalted  of  all  cha- 
racters. I  saw  in  Paul  a  dignity  and  a  glory  second  only 
to  those  of  Christ.  I  found  in  the  New  Testament  the 
perfection  of  wisdom  and  beneficence.  I  found  in  the 
history  of  the  Church  a  record  of  the  grandest  movement, 
and  of  the  most  glorious  and  beneficent  reformation,  the 
world  had  ever  witnessed.  I  found  in  the  churches  the 
mightiest  agencies  and  the  most  manifold  operations  for  the 
salvation  of  mankind.  "  Christianity,"  said  I,  "  whether 
supernatural  or  not,  is  a  wondrous  power.  It  is  good, 
if  it  is  not  true.  It  is  glorious.  It  deserves  to  be  Divine,' 
whether  it  be  so  or  not.  What  a  world  we  should  have,— 
what  a  heaven  on  earth — if  men  could  be  brought  to  be- 
lieve its  teachings,  to  imbibe  its  spirit,  and  to  obey  its  pre- 
cepts. What  a  heaven  of  bliss  it  would  be  to  one's  soul 
if  one  could  see  it  and  feel  it  to  be  really  true." 

It  had  conquered  my  heart.  It  had  won  my  love.  And 
I  would  gladly  have  died,  or  would  gladly  have  lived 
through  ages  of  hardship  and  toil,  to  be  satisfied  of  its 
divinity.  ^  How  glad  I  was  when  I  found  men  heartily 
believing  it.  How  sad  when  I  found  them  doubting,  like 
myself.  How  delighted  I  was  when  I  found  my  objections 
to  its  truth  slowly  fading  away,  and  saw  facts  in  its  favor 
coming  gradually  into  view. 

But  doubt  had  become  a  powerful  tyrant,  and  I  had 
become  a  slave ;  and  though  I  wished  I  could  be  a  Chris- 
tian, I  could  indulge  no  hope  of  ever  experiencing  so  great 
a  happiness.  But  I  would  do  Christianity  justice,  to  the 
best  of  my  ability.  I  would  exhibit  its  excellencies*  I 
would  defend  it  against  false  accusations.  I  would  preach 
it  so  far  as  I  honestly  could.  I  would  practise  its  precepts 
so  far  as  I  was  able.  I  would  cherish  its  spirit.  "  If  it 
is  not  from  God,"  said  I,  "  it  is  the  best  production  of  the 


362  IT   IS   TRUE   AND   DIVINE. 

mind  of  man.  If  I  cannot  hold  it  forth  as  a  divine  reve- 
lation, I  can  extol  it  as  the  perfection  of  human  wisdom. 
And  some  of  its  teachings  are  evidently  true,  and  others 
are  easily  proved  to  be  so.  It  is  true  throughout,  so  far 
as  I  can  test  it ;  and  it  may  be  true — perhaps  I  shall  some 
day  find  it  to  be  true — on  points  on  which  I  am  unable  to 
test  it  at  present.  I  will  wait,  and  labor  meanwhile  to 
promote  its  beneficent  influence  \" 

I  looked  on  the  other  side.  I  read  the  Secularists'  Bible : 
I  reviewed  the  history  of  unbelief;  I  examined  the  charac- 
ter and  working  of  infidel  communities.  And  what  was 
the  result !  The  Secularists'  Bible  I  found  to  be  a  huge 
and  revolting  mass  of  filth  and  loathsomeness ;  the  most 
shameless  attack  on  virtue  and  happiness  that  ever  came 
under  my  view.  I  remembered  that  Carlisle  and  Robert 
Owen  had  published  books  of  the  same  immoral  and  dehu- 
manizing tendency.  The  history  of  infidelity  I  found  to 
be  a  history  of  licentiousness,  and  of  every  abomination. 
The  infidel  communities  I  found  to  be  hot-beds  of  depra- 
vity. The  leaders  of  the  party  were  teachers  and  examples 
of  deceit,  of  dishonesty,  of  intemperance,  of  gambling,  and 
of  unbounded  licentiousness.  They  had  no  virtue ;  they 
had  no  conscience;  and  it  was  only  when  they  were  in  the 
presence  of  men  of  other  views,  that  they  had  any  shame, 
or  modesty,  or  regard  for  decency.  And  they  were  fear- 
fully intolerant  and  malignant  towards  those  who  crossed 
them,  or  thwarted  them,  in  their  projects.  They  were  no 
great  workers,  but  they  would  exert  themselves  to  the 
utmost  to  annoy  or  vilify  the  objects  of  their  displeasure. 
The  facts  that  came  to  my  knowledge  with  regard  to  the 
morals  of  the  Secularists  contributed  to  my  deliverance 
from  the  thraldom  of  unbelief. 

The  honor  awarded  to  Christ,  and  the  infamy  attached 
to  infidelity,  are  no  mistakes.  Jesus  has  never  been  exalted 
beyond  His  merits,  and  infidelity  has  never  been  hated  or 
dreaded  beyond  its  deserts.  Christianity  is  the  sum  and 
perfection  of  all  that  is  good,  and  true,  and  glorious ;  and 
atheism  is  the  sura  and  aggravation  of  all  that  is  vile,  and 
mischievous,  and  miserable.  It  would  be  sad  for  the  world 
if  men  should  lose  their  instinctive  dread  of  infidelity,  and 
begin  to  speak  of  it  as  an  error  of  little  moment.     It  is  a 


LECTURE   ON   THE    BIBLE.  363 

monster  conglomeration  of  all  evil,  and  it  has  no  redeem- 
ing quality. 

8.  Among  the  lectures  which  I  delivered  in  my  transi- 
tion state  was  one  in  answer  to  the  question :  *'  What  do 
you  oflfer  as  a  substitute  for  the  Bible  ?     Can  you  give  us 
anything  better  ?"     I  said  that  I  had  no  desire  to  do  away 
with  the  Bible ;  that  I  wished  them  to  read  it,  study  it,  and 
reduce  the  better  part  of  its  precepts  to  practice.     I  said  : 
"  With  those  who  would  destroy  the  Bible,  or  prevent  its 
circulation,  I  have  no  sympathy  and  no  connexion.     The 
Bible  is  a  book  of  great  interest  and  value ;  to  say  the 
least,  it  presents  us  with  the  thoughts  of  the  best  and  wisest 
of  men,  on  subjects  of  the  greatest  interest  and  importance ; 
it  gives  us  the  best  picture  of  the  life  and  manners  of  the 
nations  and  institutions  of  the  ancient  world  ;  it  is  a  won- 
derful revelation  of  human  nature ;  it  tells  the  most  inter- 
esting stories ;  it  contains  the  grandest  and  most  beautiful 
poetry,  the  wisest  proverbs,  the  most  faithful  denunciations 
of  vice  and  crime,  the  most  earnest  exhortations  to  duty, 
the  best  examples  of  virtue,  the  most  instructive  and  touch- 
ing narratives  of  people  of  distinguished  worth,  the  most 
rational  and  practical  definitions  of  religion,  the  worthiest 
representations   of    God   and   the    universe,   the   greatest 
encouragement  to  fidelity  under  reproach  and  persecution, 
the  richest  consolations  under  afflictions  and  trials,  and  the 
most  cheering  exhibitions  of  future  blessedness.     We  know 
of  nothing  good  in  any  system  which  is  not  favored  by 
some  portion  of  the  Bible.     We  know  of  nothing  evil  which 
is  not  condemned  by  other  portions.     All  that  is  best  and 
noblest  and  grandest  in  man's  nature  is  there  embodied. 
We  know  of  no  good  or  generous  feeling  which  is  not  there 
expressed.     We  cannot  imagine  it  possible  for  a  book  to 
be  more  earnest  in  its  exhortations  to  the  performance 
of  duty,  or  to  the  culture  of  virtue.     There  is  no  book  on 
earth  that  we  should  be  more  reluctant  to  part  with  than 
the  Bible.     Its  destruction  would  be  a  fearful  loss  to  man- 
kind.    It  is  a  mine  containing  treasures  of  infinite  value. 
The  wisest  may  learn  more  wisdom  from  its  teachings,  and 
the  best  be  raised  to  higher  virtue  by  its  influence.    It  has 
done  much  good ;  it  is  doing  good  still ;  it  is  calculated  to 
do  still  greater  good  in  days  to  come.     Old  as  it  is,  it  is  a 


364     THE   BIBLE   CANNOT   BE   PRIZED   TOO   HIGHLY. 

wiser  book  than  the  books  of  religion  that  are  written  in 
the  present  clay.  It  is  wiser  than  the  preachers;  wiser 
than  the  great  divines.  It  is  infinitely  superior  to  the 
Bibles  that  have  been  made  in  later  times,  such  as  the 
Bible  of  the  Shakers,  the  Bible  of  Reason,  and  the  Book 
of  Mormon. 

"  It  is  superior  to  the  Koran,  though  the  authors  of  the 
Koran,  like  later  makers  of  Bibles,  had  the  older  Bible  to 
help  them.  The  Koran  is  the  best  of  modern  Bibles, 
because  it  borrows  most  freely  from  the  Old  and  New 
Testaments. 

"  The  Bible  is  vastly  better  as  a  moral  book,  and  as  a 
persuasive  and  help  to  duty,  than  the  writings  of  the  best 
of  the  ancient  Greeks  and  Romans.  The  Bible  is  con- 
sistent with  itself  as  a  moral  teacher,  though  the  precepts 
of  Judaism  are  inferior  to  those  of  Christianity.  The 
Bible  treats  man  as  a  subject  of  law,  as  bound  to  obey 
God  and  do  right,  from  first  to  last ;  and  though  it  begins 
with  fewer  and  less  perfect  precepts,  suited  to  lower  states 
of  society,  it  goes  steadily  on  to  perfection,  till  it  gives  us 
the  highest  law,  and  the  most  perfect  example,  in  the 
teachings  and  life  of  Christ.  Read  your  Bibles  ;  commit 
the  better  portions  of  the  Book  to  your  memory ;  think 
of  them,  practise  them.  Don't  be  ashamed  to  do  so.  The 
greatest  philosophers,  not  excepting  such  men  as  Newton, 
Locke,  and  Boyle  ;  the  most  celebrated  mouarchs,  from 
Alfred  to  Victoria ;  the  most  venerable  judges,  with  Sir 
Matthew  Hale  as  their  representative ;  the  sweetest  poets, 
from  Chaucer,  Spenser,  Shakespeare,  and  Milton,  down  to 
Dryden,  Young,  and  Cowper ;  and  the  most  devoted 
philanthropists,  from  Penn,  and  Howard,  and  Wesley,  to 
Elizabeth  Fry  and  Florence  Nightingale,  have  been  lovers 
and  students  of  the  Bible.  The  men  that  hate  the  Bible 
and  wish  for  its  destruction,  are  the  base  and  bad.  The 
men  who  love  it  and  labor  for  its  world-wide  circulation, 
are  the  good  and  the  useful.  You  cannot  have  a  better 
companion  than  the  Bible,  if  you  will  use  it  judiciously. 
There  is  no  danger  that  you  should,  rate  it  too  high. 
If  you  should  regard  it  as  supernaturally  inspired,  it  will 
do  you  no  harm.  Such  ideas  may  make  you  read  it  more 
carefully,  and  pay  more  respect  to  its  teachings,  and  that 


WE  can't  esteem  the  bible  too  highly.    365 

will  be  a  blessing.  Men  are  in  no  danger  of  prizing  good 
books  too  highly.  As  a  rule,  they  esteem  them  far  too 
lightly.  A  great  good  book  is  one  of  the  richest  treasures 
on  earth.  There  is  still  less  danger  that  you  should  think 
too  much  of  the  Bible.  The  man  does  not  live  that  has 
erred  in  that  direction.  The  best  friends  the  Bible  has, 
the  most  strenuous  advocates  of  its  divinity,  do  not  esti- 
mate the  Book  above  its  worth.  They  do  not  value  it  ac- 
cording to  its  worth.  It  is  richer  in  its  contents,  it  is 
better  and  mightier  in  its  influences,  than  its  devoutest 
friends  are  aware. 

"  There  are  men  who  prate  about  Bibliolatry,  and  labor 
to  lower  men's  estimate  of  the  Bible.  They  may  spare 
their  breath.  The  people  who  idolize  the  Bible  too  much 
are  creatures  of  their  own  imagination  only,  and  not  living 
men  and  women.  People  may  love  the  Bible  unwisely, 
but  not  too  well.  To  place  it  too  high  as  a  means  of  in- 
structing, regenerating  and  blessing  mankind,  is  not  in 
man's  power. 

"I  esteem  it  myself  more  highly  than  I  ever  did.  My 
ramblings  in  the  regions  of  doubt  and  unbelief;  my  larger 
acquaintance  with  the  works  of  infidel  philosophers,  atheis- 
tical reformers,  fanatical  dreamers,  re-organizers  of  society, 
makers  of  new  moral  worlds,  skeptical  historians 
of  civilization.  Essays  and  Reviews,  Elements  of  Social 
Science,  Phases  of  Faith,  and  Phases  of  no  Faith,  and  a 
world  of  other  books;  my  enlarged  acquaintance  with 
men,  my  sense  of  spiritual  want  and  wretchedness  M^hen 
shut  out  from  religious  consolations,  have  led  me  to  value 
the  Bible,  skeptical  as  I  yet  am,  as  I  never  valued  it 
before.     , 

"I  was  born  in  a  town  on  a  hill,  from  which  I  had  de- 
lightful views  of  a  rich  and  beautiful  valley.  I  looked  on 
those  beautiful  prospects  spread  out  before  me,  with  their 
charming  variety  of  scenery,  from  my  earliest  days,  to  the 
time  I  left  my  native  land,  but  I  have  no  recollection  that 
I  ever  experienced  in  those  early  times  any  large  amount 
of  pleasure  from  the  sight.  In  course  of  time  I  left  the 
place  of  my  birth  and  the  home  of  my  childhood,  and 
visited  other  lands.  I  saw  rivers  and  lakes,  and  moun- 
tains and  plains,  and  forests  and  prairies  in  great  abund- 


3G6  WE  don't  know  its  full  worth. 

ance,  and  in  almost  endless  variety.  And  I  compared 
them  one  with  another,  and  marked,  their  points  of  dif- 
ference and  resemblance.  And  then  after  my  many  and 
long  wanderings,  I  returned  to  the  place  of  my  birth,  and 
looked  on  the  scenes  of  my  childhood  again ;  and  I  was 
lost  in  ecstacies.  I  was  amazed  that  I  had  seen  so  little 
of  their  beauty,  and  been  so  little  transported  with  their 
charms  before. 

"  And  so  with  regard  to  the  Bible.  I  was  born  in  a 
family  in  which  the  Bible  was  read  every  day  of  the  year. 
I  heard  its  lessons  from  the  lips  of  a  venerable  father,  and 
of  a  most  affectionate  mother.  I  read  the  book  myself.  I 
studied  it  when  I  came  of  age,  and  treasured  up  many  of  its 
teachings  in  my  heart.  I  preached  its  truths  to  others. 
I  defended  its  teachings  against  infidel  assailants,  and  was 
eloquent  in  its  praise. 

"  But  a  change  took  place ;  a  strange,  unlooked-for 
change.  I  was  severed  from  the  Church.  I  became  an 
unbeliever.  I  turned  away  my  eyes  from  the  book,  or 
looked  chiefly  on  such  portions  of  it  as  seemed  to  justify 
my  unbelief.  I  have  been  led  of  late  to  return  to  the  book, 
and  to  study  it  with  a  desire  to  do  it  justice  ;  and  the  re- 
sult is,  I  love  it,  I  prize  it,  as  I  never  did  in  my  life.  I 
read  it  at  times  with  unspeakable  transports,  and  I  am 
sorry  I  should  ever  have  been  so  insensible  to  its  infinite 
excellences." 

Such  was  my  lecture.  Those  who  had  come  to  oppose, 
seemed  puzzled  what  to  say.  One  man  said  I  had  been 
brought  there  to  curse  the  Bible,  and  lo !  I  had  blessed  it 
altogether.  Another  said  that  what  I  had  uttered  could 
not  be  my  real  sentiments — that  my  praise  of  the  Bible 
must  be  a  trap  or  a  snare.  My  answer  was,  They  are  my 
real  convictions,  and  the  sentiments  that  I  publish  in  my 
weekly  paper.  Then  how  comes  it  that  you  are  brought 
here  by  the  Secularists  ?  I  answered.  My  custom  is  to 
accept  invitations  from  any  party,  but  to  teach  ray  own 
sentiments. 

One  young  man  came  to  me  at  Bristol,  after  hearing  rae 
deliver  this  lecture,  and  said  how  glad  he  was  at  what  I 
had  said.  "  When  my  mother  was  dying,"  said  he,  "  she 
gave  mc  a  Bible,  and  pressed  me  to  read  it ;  and  I  did  so 


MY   FAITH   GROWS   STRONGER.  367 

for  a  while.  But  when  I  became  a  skeptic,  I  lost  my  in- 
terest in  the  book,  aod  I  didn't  know  what  to  do  with  it. 
I  didn't  like  to  sell  it,  or  destroy  it,  because  it  v/as  the 
gift  of  my  mother ;  yet  I  seemed  to  have  no  use  for  it.  I 
shall  read  it  now  with  pleasure." 

On  the  following  evening  I  lectured  on  True  Religion. 
The  gentleman  who  had  come  to  oppose  me  said  it  Avas 
the  best  sermon,  or  about  the  best,  he  had  ever  heard. 
He  seemed  at  a  loss  to  know  what  right  I  had  to  speak  so 
earnestly  in  favor  of  all  that  was  good,  and  app'eared  in- 
clined to  abuse  me  for  not  saying  something  bad.  I  took 
all  calmly,  and  the  meeting  ended  pleasantly. 

9.  And  now,  instead  of  trying  to  shake  men's  faith  in 
religion,  I  labored  to  strengthen  it.  I  was  satisfied  that 
the  faith  of  the  Christian  was  right  in  substance,  if  it  was 
not  quite  right  in  form.  And  I  was  satisfied  there  was 
something  terribly  wrong  in  unbelief,  though  I  could  not 
yet  free  myself  entirely  from  its  horrible  power. 

10.  The  feeling  grew  stronger  that  my  remaining  doubts 
were  unreasonable ;  that  my  soul  was  a  slave  to  an  evil 
spell,  the  result  of  long  persistence  in  an  evil  method 
of  reasoning  ;  yet  I  lacked  the  power  to  emancipate  my- 
self. At  length,  as  I  have  said,  I  appealed  to  Heaven  and 
cried,  "  God  help  me  !"  and  ray  struggling  soul  was 
strengthened  and  released. 

11.  I  had  looked  at  the  Church  when  a  Christian  minis- 
ter from  the  highest  ground,  and  it  seemed  too  low.  I  had 
compared  it  with  Christ  and  His  teachings,  and  it  seemed 
full  of  shortcomings.  I  now  looked  at  it  from  low  ground, 
and  it  seemed  high.  I  compared  it  with  what  I  had  seen 
in  infidel  society,  and  read  in  infidel  books ;  and  I  was 
filled  with  admiration  of  its  order,  and  of  its  manifold 
labors  of  love.  I  tried  to  imitate  the  order  and  beneficent 
operations  of  the  Church  in  my  Burnley  society,  but  failed. 
Faith  in  Christianity,  and  the  spirit  of  its  glorious  Author, 
were  wanting.     The  body  without  the  spirit  is  dead. 

12.  I  was  first  convinced  that  Christianity  was  necessary 
to  the  happiness  of  man,  and  to  the  regeneration  of  the 
world,  but  had  doubts  as  to  its  truth.  I  now  saw  that 
much  of  it  was  true.  In  course  of  time  I  came  to  be 
satisfied  that  the  religion  of  Christ  was  true  as  a  whole ; 


368  MIRACLES  NOT  INCREDIBLE. 

that  it  was  a  revelation  from  God ;  that  Christ  Himself 
was  a  revelation  both  of  what  God  is,  and  of  what  man 
ought  to  be  ;  that  He  was  God's  image  and  man's  model : 
that  He  was  God  incarnate,  God  manifest  in  the  flesh,  and 
the  one  great  Saviour  of  mankind.  My  objections  to 
miracles  gave  way.  They  seemed  groundless.  I  saw 
miracles  in  nature.  They  were  wrought  on  every  emer- 
gency, even  to  secure  the  comfort  of  the  lower  animals. 
What  could  be  more  rational  than  to  expect  them  to  be 
wrought  in  aid  of  man's  illumination  and  salvation  ?  My 
moral  and  religious  feelings  got  stronger.  My  skeptical 
tendencies  grew  weaker.  I  continued  to  look  at  Christ.  I 
studied  him  more  and  more.  My  heart  waxed  warmer  ; 
my  love  to  God  and  Christ  became  a  mighty  flame.  I  got 
among  the  followers  of  Christ ;  I  gave  free  scope,  I  gave 
full  play,  to  my  better  affections,  and  heavenward  tenden- 
cies. I  read,  I  prayed,  I  wrote,  I  lectured,  I  preached.  I 
gave  free  utterance  to  what  I  believed,  and  while  doing  so, 
came  to  believe  still  more,  and  to  believe  with  fuller  assur- 
ance. I  used  no  violence  with  myself,  except  my  lower 
self.  I  went  no  further  in  my  preaching  than  I  had  gone 
in  ray  belief,  and  I  accepted  no  doctrines  or  theories  which 
did  not  present  themselves  to  my  soul  as  true  and  right. 
But  I  came  at  length  to  see,  not  the  perfection  and  di- 
vinity of  any  particular  system  of  theology,  but  the  per- 
fection and  divinity  of  Christianity,  and  the  substantial 
perfection  and  divinity  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures. 

13.  I  examined  the  popular  objections  to  Christianity 
and  the  Bible.  Some  were  exceedingly  childish ;  some 
seemed  wicked ;  some,  it  was  plain,  originated  in  igno- 
rance ;  some  in  error.  Paine,  Owen,  Parker,  and  certain 
students  of  nature,  came  to  erroneous  conclusions  with 
regard  to  Christ  and  the  Bible,  because  they  tried  them  by 
false  standards.  Jesus  said  nothing  on  the  value  of  repre- 
sentative and  democratic  forms  of  government,  so  Paine 
considered  Him  ignorant  of  the  conditions  of  human  hap- 
piness. It  was  Paine  however  that  was  ignorant,  not 
Jesus.  Jesus  was  so  wise,  that  Paine  was  not  able  tp 
appreciate  His  views  or  do  Him  justice.  Owen  believed 
that  man  was  the  creature  of  circumstances ;  that  his  cha- 
racter was  formed  for  him,  not  by  him,  and  that  he  was 


WHENCE   COME   OBJECTIONS   TO   THE    BIBLE?      369 

not  responsible  therefore  for  his  actionsT  Christ  taught  a 
contrary  doctrine.  Owen  therefore  considered  Christ  to 
be  in  error :  but  the  error  was  in  himself.  Parker  did  not 
believe  in  the  possibility  of  miracles :  but  the  Bible  con- 
tained accounts  of  miracles.  The  Bible  therefore  must  be 
pronounced,  to  a  great  extent,  fabulous.  But  miracles 
are  possible;  miracles  are  actual,  palpable  realities,  and 
Parker's  objection  falls  to  the  ground.  Many  smatterers 
in  science  object  to  the  credibility  of  the  gospel  history  on 
the  same  ground,  and  are  answered  in  the  same  way. 

Some  objections  to  the  Bible  and  Christianity  originate 
in  misinterpretations  of  portions  of  the  Bible.  The  Scrip- 
tures are  made  answerable  for  foolish  doctrines  which  they 
do  not  teach.  Some  objections  seem  based  on  a  wilful 
misconstruction  of  passages  of  Scripture.  Many  objections 
owe  their  force  to  wrong  theories  of  Divine  inspiration, 
and  to  erroneous  notions  with  regard  to  the  design  of  the 
Sacred  Scriptures  put  forth  by  certain  divines.  These  are 
obviated  by  the  rejection  of  those  unwarrantable  theories 
and  erroneous  ideas,  and  the  acceptance  of  better  ones. 
Many  get  wrong  notions  about  what  constitutes  the  perfee- 
tion  of  the  Bible,  and  look  in  the  Scriptures  for  a  hind 
of  perfection  which  is  impossible  in  a  book  written  in 
human  language,  and  meant  for  the  instruction  and  edu- 
cation of  imperfect  human  beings.  There  is  not  a  language 
on  earth  that  is  absolutely  perfect,  nor  is  it  likely  that 
there  ever  was,  or  ever  will  be,  such  a  language.  An 
absolutely  perfect  book  therefore  in  any  human  language 
is  an  impossibility.  But  no  such  thing  as  an  absolutely 
perfect  book  is  necessary  or  desirable,  any  more  than  an 
absolutely  perfect  body  or  soul,  or  an  absolutely  perfect 
church  or  ministry.  There  is  a  kind  of  imperfection  in 
God's  works  which  constitutes  their  perfection.  There  is 
a  kind  of  perfection  talked  about  by  metaphysical  divines, 
wliich  would  be  the  extreme  of  imperfection.  We  have 
reason  to  be  thankful  that  there  is  no  such  perfection 
either  in  Nature  or  the  Bible.  Nature  and  the  Bible 
would  be  worthless  if  there  were.  But  there  is  a  practical 
perfection,  a  perfection  of  usefulness,  in  both  ;  a  perfection 
of  adaptation  to  the  accomplishment  of  the  highest  and 
most  desirable  objects  :  and  that  is  enough. 
24 


370  SPIRITUALISM. 

The  principal  objects  for  which  the  Bible  was  written 
were,  1.  To  make  men  wise  unto  salvation  through  faith 
in  Christ  Jesus.  2.  To  furnish  God's  people  unto  every 
good  work.  3.  To  support  them  under  their  trials,  and 
to  comfort  them  under  their  sorrows,  on  their  way  to 
heaven.  No  higher  or  more  desirable  ends  can  be  con- 
ceived. And  it  answers  these  ends,  whenever  its  teachings 
are  received  and  obeyed.  And  this  is  true,  substantial 
perfection.  This  is  the  reasoning  of  the  Psalmist.  "  The 
law  of  the  Lord  is  perfect,^'  says  he,  and  the  proof  he  gives 
is  this,  "it  converteth  the  soul."  "The  testimony  of  the 
Lord  is  sure,  mahing  wise  the  simple.  The  statutes  of  the 
Lord  are  right,  rejoicing  the  heart.  Moreover  by  them  is 
Thy  servant  warned,  and  in  keeping  of  them  there  is  great 
reward."     This  is  all  the  perfection  we  need. 

14.  Spiritualism  had  something  to  do  with  my  conver- 
sion. I  know  the  strong  feeling  prevailing  among  many 
Christians  against  spiritualism,  but  I  should  feel  as  if  I 
had  not  quite  done  my  duty,  if  I  did  not,  to  the  best  of  my 
recollection,  set  down  the  part  it  had  in  the  cure  of  my  un- 
belief. My  friends  must  therefore  bear  with  me  while  I 
give  them  the  following  particulars  : — 

As  I  travellod  to  and  fro  in  America,  fulfilling  my  lec- 
turing engagements,  I  met  with  a  number  of  persons  who 
had  been  converted,  by  means  of  spiritualism,  from  utter 
infidelity,  to  a  belief  in  God  and  a  future  life.  Several 
of  those  converts  told  me  their  experience,  and  pressed  me 
to  visit  some  medium  myself,  in  hopes  that  I  miglit  wit- 
ness something  that  would  lead  to  my  conversion.  I  was, 
at  tthe  time,  so  exceedingly  skeptical,  that  the  wonderful 
stori6?.  which  they  told  me,  only  caused  me  to  suspect  them 
of  ignoriince,  insanity,  or  dishonesty ;  and  the  repetition 
of  such  stbries,  to  which  T  was  compelled  to  listen  in  al- 
most every  jHace  I  visited,  had  such  an  unha])py  elfect  on 
my  mind,  that'^vl  was  strongly  tempted  to  say,  "  All  men 
are  liars,"  I  had  so  completely  forgotten,  or  exj)lained 
away,  my  own  previous  experiences,  and  I  was  so  far  gone 
in  unbelief,  that  I  had  no  confidence  whatever  in  anything 
that  was  told  me  about  matters  spiritual  or  supernatural. 
I  might  have  the  fullest  confidence  imaginable  in  tlie  wit- 
nesses when  they  spoke  on  ordinary  subjects,  but  I  could 


VISIT   TO   A    MEDIUM.  371 

not  put  the  slightest  faith  in  their  testimony  when  they 
told  me  their  stories  about  spiritual  matters.  And  though 
fifty  or  a  hundred  persons,  in  fifty  or  a  hundred  different 
places,  without  concert  with  each  other,  and  without  any 
temptation  of  interest,  told  me  similar  stories,  their  words 
had  not  the  least  effect  on  my  mind.  The  most  credible 
testimony  in  the  world  was  utterly  powerless,  so  far  as 
things  spiritual  were  concerned.  Aod  when  the  parties 
whose  patience  I  tried  by  my  measureless  incredulity,  en- 
treated me  to  visit  some  celebrated  medium,  that  I  might 
see  and  judge  for  myself,  I  paid  not  the  least  regard  to  their 
entreaties.  I  was  wiser  in  my  own  conceit  than  all  the  be- 
lievers on  earth. 

At  length,  to  please  a  particular  friend  of  mine  in  Phila- 
delphia, I  visited  a  medium  called  Dr.  Redman.  It  was 
said  that  the  proofs  given  through  him  of  the  existence  and 
powers  of  departed  spirits  were  such  as  no  one  could  resist. 
My  friend  and  his  family  had  visited  this  medium,  and 
had  seen  things  which  to  them  seemed  utterly  unaccounta- 
ble, except  on  the  supposition  that  they  were  the  work 
of  disembodied  spirits. 

When  I  entered  Dr.  Redman's  room,  he  gave  me  eight 
small  pieces  of  paper,  about  an  inch  wide  and  two  inches 
long,  and  told  me  to  take  them  aside,  where  no  one  could 
see  me,  and  write  on  them  the  names  of  such  of  my  de- 
parted friends  as  I  might  think  fit,  and  then  wrap  them  up 
like  pellets  and  bring  them  to  him.  I  took  the  papers,  and 
wrote  on  seven  of  them  the  names  of  my  father  and  mother, 
my  eldest  and  my  youngest  brothers,  a  sister,  a  sister-in- 
law,  and  an  aunt,  one  name  on  each;  and  one  I  left  blank. 
I  retired  to  a  coreer  of  the  room  to  do  the  writing,  where 
there  was  neither  glass  nor  window,  and  I  was  so  careful  not 
to  give  any  one  a  chance  of  knowing  what  I  wrote,  that  I 
wrote  with  a  short  pencil,  so  that  even  the  motion  of  the 
top  of  my  pencil  could  not  be  seen.  I  was  besides  entirely 
alone  in  that  part  of  the  room,  with  my  face  to  the  dark 
wall.  The  bits  of  paper  which  the  medium  had  given  me 
were  soft,  so  that  I  had  no  difficulty  in  rolling  them  into 
round  pellets,  about  the  size  of  small  peas.  I  rolled  them 
up,  and  could  no  more  have  told  which  was  blank  and 
which  "was  written  on,  nor  which,  among  the  seven  I  had 


372  STKAXGE  FACTS. 

written  on,  contained  the  name  of  any  one  of  my  friends, 
and  which  the  names  of  the  rest,  than  I  can  tell  at  this  mo- 
ment what  is  taking  place  in  the  remotest  orbs  of  heaven. 
Having  rolled  up  the  papers  as  described,  I  laid  them  on 
a  round  table,  about  three  feet  broad.  I  laid  on  the  table 
at  the  same  time  a  letter,  wrapped  up,  but  not  sealed,  writ- 
ten to  my  father,  but  with  no  address  outside.  I  also  laid 
down  a  few  loose  leaves  of  note  paper.  The  medium  sat 
on  one  side  the  table,  and  I  sat  on  the  other,  and  the  pel- 
lets of  paper  and  the  letter  lay  between  us.  We  had  not 
sat  over  a  minute,  I  think,  when  there  came  very  lively 
raps  on  the  table,  and  the  medium  seemed  excited.  He 
seized  a  pencil,  and  wrote  on  the  outside  of  my  letter, 
wrong  side  up,  and  from  right  to  left,  so  that  what  he 
wrote  lay  right  for  me  to  read,  these  words  :    "  I  came  in 

WITH    YOU,    BUT   YOU    NEITHER   SAW    ME    NOR   FELT    ME. 

WILLIAM  BARKER."  And  immediately  he  seized 
me  by  the  hand,  and  shook  hands  with  me. 

This  rather  startled  me.  I  felt  very  strange.  For 
William  Barker  was  the  name  of  my  youngest  brother, 
who  had  died  in  Ohio  some  two  or  three  years  before.  I 
had  never  named  him,  I  believe,  in  Philadelphia,  and  I 
have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  any  one  in  the  city  was 
aware  that  I  had  ever  had  such  a  brother,  much  less  that 
he  was  dead.  I  did  not  tell  the  medium  that  the  name 
that  he  had  written  was  the  name  of  a  brother  of  mine ; 
but  I  asked,  "  Is  the  name  of  this  person  among  those 
written  in  the  paper  pellets  on  the  table?" 

The  answer  was  instantly  given  by  three  loudish  raps, 
"  Yes." 

I  asked,  "Can  he  select  the  paper  containing  his  name?" 

The  answer,  given  as  before,  was  "  Yes." 

The  medium  then  took  up  first  one  of  the  paper  pellets 
and  then  another,  laying  them  down  again,  till  he  came  to 
the  fifth,  which  he  hancfed  to  me.  I  opened  it  out,  and  it 
contained  my  brother's  name.  I  was  startled  again,  and 
felt  very  strange.  I  asked,  "  Will  the  person  whose  name 
is  on  this  paper  answer  me  some  questions  ?" 

The  answer  was,  "  Yes." 

I  then  took  part  of  my  note  paper,  and  with  my  left 
hand  on  edge,  and  the  top  of  my  short  pencil  concealed,  I 


STILL   STRANGER   FACTS.  373 

wrote,  "  Where  d ,"  intending  to  write,   "  Where  did 

you  die  f     But  as  soon  as  I  had  written  "  Where  d -," 

the  medium  reached  over  my  hand  and  wrote,  upside 
down,  and  backwards  way,  as  before,—^' 

"Put  down  a  number  of  places,  and  I  will  tell  you.'' 

Thus  answering  my  question  before  I  had  had  time  to 
ask  it  in  writing. 

I  then  wrote  down  a  list  of  places,  four  in  all,  and 
pointed  to  each  separately  with  my  pencil,  expecting  raps 
when  I  touched  the  right  one ;  but  no  raps  came. 

The  medium  then  said,  "  Write  down  a  few  more."  I 
then  discovered  that  I  had  not,  at  first,  written  down  the 
place  where  my  brother  died :  so  I  wrote  down  two  more 
places,  the  first  of  the  two  being  the  place  where  he  died. 
The  list  then  stood  thus  : — 


IS 


ALEM, 


LeedsT} 
(Ravenna, 
Akron,^ 
TuYAHOGA  Falls, 
New  York. 

The  medium  then  took  his  pencil,  and  moved  it  between 
the  different  names,  till  he  came  to  Cuyahoga  Falls, 
which  he  scratched  out.  That  was  the  name  of  the  place 
where  he  died. 

I  then  wrote  a  number  of  other  questions,  in  no  case 
giving  the  medium  any  chance  of  knowing  by  any  or- 
dinary means  what  I  wrote,  and  in  every  case  he  an- 
swered the  questions  in  writing  as  he  had  done  before; 
and  in  every  case  but  one  the  answers  were  such  as  to 
show,  both  that  the  answerer  knew  what  questions  I  had 
asked,  and  was  acquainted  with  the  matters  to  which  they 
referred. 

When  I  had  asked  some  ten  or  a  dozen  questions,  the 
medium  said,  "  There  is  a  female  spirit  wishes  to  com- 
municate with  you." 

"  Is  her  name  among  those  on  the  table?"     I  asked. 

The  answer,  in  three  raps,  was,  "  Yes." 


374    .  EFFECTS. 

"  Can  she  select  the  paper  containing  her  name  ?"  I 
asked. 

The  answer  again  was,  "  Yes." 

The  medium  then  took  up  one  of  the  paper  pellets,  and 
put  it  down  ;  then  took  up  and  put  down  a  second ;  and 
then  took  up  a  third  and  handed  it  to  me. 

I  was  just  preparing  to  undo  it,  to  look  for  the  name, 
when  the  medium  reached  over  as  before,  and  wrote  on  a 
leaf  of  my  note  paper — 

"  It  is  my  Name.     ELIZABETH  BARKER." 

And  the  moment  he  had  written  it,  he  stretched  out  his 
hand,  smiling,  and  shook  hands  with  me  again.  Whether 
it  really  was  so  or  not,  I  will  not  say,  but  his  smile  seemed 
the  smile  of  my  mother,  and  the  expression  of  hife  face 
was  the  old  expression  of  my  mother's  face ;  and  when  he 
shook  hands  with  me,  he  drew  his  hand  away  in  the 
manner  in  which  my  mother  had  always  drawn  away  her 
hand.  The  tears  started  into  my  eyes,  and  my  flesh 
seemed  to  creep  on  my  bones.  I  felt  stranger  than  ever. 
I  opened  the  paper,  and  it  was  my  mother's  name : 
ELIZABETH  BARKER.  I  asked  a  number  of  ques- 
tions as  before,  and  received  appropriate  answers. 

But  I  had  seen  enough.  I  felt  no  desire  to  multiply 
experiments.  So  I  came  away — sober,  sad,  and  thought- 
ful. 

I  had  a  particular  friend  in  Philadelphia,  an  old  unbe- 
liever, called  Thomas  Illman.  He  was  born  at  Thetford, 
England,  and  educated,  I  was  told,  for  the  ministry  in  the 
Established  Church.  He  was  remarkably  well  informed. 
I  never  met  with  a  skeptic  who  had  read  more  or  knew 
more  on  historical  or  religious  subjects,  or  who  was  better 
acquainted  with  things  in  general,  except  Theodore  Parker. 
He  was  the  leader  of  the  Philadelphia  Freethinkers,  and 
was  many  years  president  of  tlie  Sunday  Institute  of  that 
city.  He  told  me,  many  months  before  I  paid  my  visit  to 
Dr.  Redman,  that  he  once  paid  him  a  visit,  and  that  he 
had  seen  what  was  utterly  beyond  his  comprehension, — 
what  seemed  quite  at  variance  with  the  notion  that  there 
was  no  spiritual  world, — and  what  compelled  him  to  regard 
with  charity  and  forbearance  the  views  of  Christians  on 
that  subject.     At  the  time  he  told  me  of  these  things,  I 


MY    OWj!f  OBJECTIONS,  375 

had  become  rather  uncharitable  towards  the  Spiritualists, 
and  very  distrustful  of  their  statements,  and  the  conse- 
quence was,  that  his  account  of  what^he  had  witnessed, 
and  of  the  effect  it  had  had  on  his  mind,  made  but  little 
impression  on  me.  But  when  I  saw  things  resembling 
what  my  friend  had  seen,  his  statements  came  back  to  my 
mind  with  great  power,  and  helped  to  increase  my  astonish- 
ment. But  my  friend  was  now  dead,  and  I  had  no 
longer  an  opportunity  of  conversing  with  him  about  what 
we  had  seen.  This  Mr.  Illman  was  the  gentleman  men- 
tioned on  a  former  page,  whom  I  attended  on  his  bed 
of  death. 

The  result  of  my  visit  to  Dr.  Redman  was,  that  I  never 
afterwards  felt  the  same  impatience  with  Spiritualists,  or 
the  same  inclination  to  pronounce  them  all  foolish  or  dis- 
honest, that  I  had  felt  before.  It  was  plain,  that  whether 
their  theory  of  a  spirit  world  was  true  or  not,  they  were 
excusable  in  thinking  it  true.  It  looked  like  truth.  I  did 
not  myself  conclude  from  what  I  had  seen,  that  it  was  true, 
but  I  was  satisfied  that  there  was  more  in  this  wonderful 
universe  than  could  be  accounted  for  on  the  coarse  ma- 
terialistic principles  of  Atheism.  My  skepticism  was 
not  destroyed,  but  it  was  shaken  and  confounded.  And 
now,  when  I  look  back  on  these  things,  it  seems  strange 
that  it  was  not  entirely  swept  away.  But  believing  and 
disbelieving  are  habits,  and  they  are  subject  to  the  same 
laws  as  other  habits.  You  may  exercise  yourself  in  doubt- 
ing till  you  become  the  slave  of  doubt.  And  this  was 
what  I  had  done.  I  had  exercised  myself  in  doubting, 
till  my  tendencies  to  doubt  had  become  irresistible.  My 
faith,  both  in  God  and  man,  seemed  entirely  gone.  I  had 
not,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  so  much  as  "  a  grain  of  mustard 
seed  "  left.  So  far  as  religious  matters  were  concerned,  I 
was  insane.  It  makes  me  sad  to  think  what  a  horrible 
extravagance  of  doubt  had  taken  possession  of  my  mind. 
A  thousand  thanks  to  God  for  my  deliverance  from  that 
dreadful  thraldom. 

15.  I  have  been  asked  how  I  meet  my  own  old  objec- 
tions to  the  Divine  authority  of  the  Bible.  I  answer,  some 
of  them  originated  in  misinterpretations  of  Scripture. 
Others  originated  in  mistakes  with  regard  .to  the  character 


376        IN  THE  DEBATE  WITH  DK.  BERG. 

of  Christ.  Some  things  which  I  regarded  as  defects  in 
Christ  were,  in  truth,  excellencies.  Some  were  based  on 
mistakes  with  regard  to  the  truth  of  certain  doctrines,  and 
the  value  of  certain  precepts.  I  looked  on  certain  doc- 
trines as  false,  which  I  now  am  satisfied  are  true ;  and  I 
regarded  certain  precepts  as  bad,  which  I  am  now  per- 
suaded are  good.  Some  things  which  I  said  about  the 
Bible  were  true,  but  they  proved  nothing  against  its  sub- 
stantial perfection  and  divinity.  Much  of  what  I  said  in 
my  speech  at  Salem,  Ohio,  about  the  imperfection  of  all 
translations  of  the  Scriptures,  the  various  readings  of  Greek 
and  Hebrew  manuscripts,  the  defects  of  Greek  and 
Hebrew  compilations,  and  the  loss  of  the  original  manu- 
scripts, was  true  ;  but  it  amounted  to  nothing.  It  dis- 
proved the  unguarded  statements  of  certain  rash  divines; 
but  it  proved  nothing  against  the  divine  inspiration  or 
substantial  perfection  of  the  Bible  as  taught  in  the  Bible 
itself,  and  as  held  by  divines  of  the  more  enlightened  and 
sober  class.  That  which  is  untrue  in  what  I  wrote  about 
the  Scriptures  is  no  longer  an  obstacle  to  my  faith,  now  that 
I  see  it  to  be  untrue.  And  those  remarks  which  are  true 
in  my  writings  on  the  Bible  give  me  no  trouble,  because 
my  faith  in  Bible  inspiration  is  of  such  a  form,  that  they 
do  not  affect  it.  They  might  shake  the  faith  of  a  man  who 
believes  in  a  kind  of  inspiration  of  the  Bible  which  is  un- 
scriptural,  and  in  a  kind  of  perfection  of  the  Book  which 
is  impossible ;  but  they  do  not  affect  the  faith  of  a  man 
who  keeps  his  belief  in  Bible  inspiration  and  Bible  per- 
fection within  the  bounds  of  Scripture  and  reason. 

And  here  I  may  say  a  few  words  about  the  objections 
I  advanced  in  my  debate  with  Dr.  Berg. 

1.  The  great  mass  of  those  objections  prove  nothing 
against  the  Bible  itself,  as  the  great  and  divinely  appointed 
means  of  man's  religious  instruction  and  improvement. 
They  simply  show  that  the  theory  held  by  Dr.  Berg  about 
the  inspiration  and  absolute  perfection  of  the  book  was 
erroneous.  If  Dr.  Berg  had  modified  his  notions,  and 
brought  them  within  Scriptural  bounds,  this  class  of  ob- 
jections would  all  have  fallen  to  the  ground. 

2.  But  some  of  my  statements  were  untrue  and  unjust. 
For  instance,  in  one  case  I  said,  'The  man  who  forms  his 


HOW    I    MEET   THEM.  377 

ideas  of  God  from  the  Bible  can  hardly  fail  to  have  blas- 
phemous ideas  of  Him.'  Now,  from  the  account  of  the  Crea- 
tion in  Genesis,  to  the  last  chapter  in  l^velation,  the  one 
grand  idea  presented  of  God  is  that  He  is  good,  and  that 
His  delight  is  to  do  good, — that  He  is  good  to  all,  and 
that  His  tender  mercies  are  over  all  His  works.  What- 
ever may  be  said  of  a  few  passages  of  dark  or  doubtful 
meaning,  the  whole  drift  of  the  Bible  is  in  accordance 
with  that  wonderful,  that  unparalleled  oracle  of  the  Apos- 
tle, '  GOD  IS  LOVE.' 

3.  Another  statement  that  I  made  was,  that  the  man 
who  studies  God  in  Nature,  without  the  Bible,  is  infinitely 
likelier  to  get  worthier  views  of  God,  than  he  who  gets 
his  ideas  of  God  from  the  Bible  without  regard  to  Nature. 
Now  the  truth  is,  no  man  eah  get  his  ideas  of  God  from 
the  Bible  without  regard  to  Nature ;  for  the  Bible  con- 
stantly refers  to  Nature  as  a  revelation  of  God,  and  repre- 
sents Nature  as  exhibiting  the  grandest  displays  of  God's 
boundless  and  eternal  goodness.  The  Bible  and  Nature 
are  in  harmony  on  the  character  of  God.  The  only  dif- 
ference is,  that  the  revelations  of  God's  love  in  the  Bible, 
and  especially  in  Christ,  are  more  striking,  more  over- 
powering and  transforming  than  those  of  Nature.  And 
lastly,  the  notions  of  God  entertained  by  those  who  have 
the  light  of  Nature  alone,  are  not  to  be  compared  with  the 
views  entertained  by  those  who  form  their  views  of  God 
from  the  Bible  alone,  or  from  the  Bible  and  Nature 
conjoined. 

4.  One  of  my  strongest  objections  was  based  on  the 
109th  Psalm.  This  Psalm  contains  strong  expressions 
of  revenge  and  hatred  towards  the  enemy  of  the  Psalmist. 
The  answer  to  this  objection  is, 

1.  That  the  Psalmist  is  not  set  up  as  our  great  exam- 
ple, and  that  his  utterances  are  not  given  as  the  highest 
manifestation  of  goodness. 

2.  The  Psalms  are  exceedingly  instructive  and  interest- 
ing, and  must  have  been  of  immense  value,  both  as  a  means 
of  comfort  and  improvement,  to  those  to  whom  they  were 
first  given ;  but  the  perfection  of  divine  revelation  was  yet 
to  come.  The  Psalms  are  of  incalculable  value  still,  but 
they  are  not  our  standard  of  the  highest  virtue.     John  the 


878     THE   OBJECTIOXS    GROUNDED    OX    PSALM     109. 

Baptist  was  greater,  higher,  better  than  the  Psalmist;  yet 
the  least  of  the  followers  of  Jesus  is  higher  than  he. 

3.  But  thirdly ;  we  must  not  conclude  that  the  feelings 
and  expressions  of  the  Psalmist  were  wicked,  merely  be- 
cause they  fell  short  of  the  highest  Christian  virtue. 
'  Revenge/  says  one  of  our  wisest  men,  *  is  a  wild  kind 
of  justice;'  but  it  is  justice  notwithstanding,  when  called 
forth  by  real  and  grievous  wrong.  It  is  goodness,  though 
not  goodness  of  the  highest  kind.  It  is  virtue,  though  not 
perfect  Christian  virtue.  And  the  revenge  of  the  Psalmist 
was  provoked  by  wrong  of  the  most  grievous  description. 
Bead  the  account  of  the  matter  given  in  the  Psalm  itself. 
'  Hold  not  thy  peace,  O  God  of  my  praise ;  for  the  mouth 
of  the  wicked  and  the  mouth  of  the  deceitful  are  opened 
against  me :  they  have  spoken  against  me  with  a  lying 
tongue.  They  compassed  me  about  also  with  words 
of  hatred ;  and  fought  against  me  without  a  cause.  For 
my  love  they  are  my  adversaries :  but  I  give  myself  unto 
prayer.  And  they  have  rewarded  me  evil  for  good,  and 
hatred  for  my  love.'  This  was  injustice,  ingratitude, 
cruelty  of  the  most  grievous  kind.  And  these  wrongs  had 
been  continued  till  his  health  and  strength  were  reduced 
to  the  lowest  point.  *I  am  gone,'  says  he,  'like  the  shadow 
when  it  declineth.  My  knees  are  weak;  my  flesh  faileth; 
so  that  when  men  look  at  me,  they  shake  their  heads.' 

And  a  similar  cause  is  assigned  for  the  revengeful  ex- 
pressions in  the  69th  Psalm.  There  we  find  the  persecuted 
Psalmist  saying,  "  They  that  hate  me,  and  would  destroy 
me,  are  my  enemies  wrongfully,  and  they  are  many  and 
mighty.  Then  I  restored  that  which  I  took  not  away. 
For  thy  sake  have  I  borne  reproach :  .the  reproaches  of  them 
that  reproached  thee  are  fallen  upon  me.  I  Avas  the  song 
of  the  drunkards.  Reproach  hath  broken  my  heart ;  and 
I  am  full  of  heaviness :  and  I  looked  for  some  one  to 
take  pity,  but  there  was  none ;  and  for  comforters,  but 
none  appeared."  Thus  the  men  that  wronged  and  tor- 
mented the  Psalmist  were  enemies  to  God  and  goodness,  as 
well  as  to  himself. 

We  know  that  the  virtue  of  the  injured  and  tormented 
Psalmist  was  not  the  virtue  of  the  Gospel ;  but  it  was 
virtue.     It  was  the  virtue  of  the  law.     And  the  law  was 


VISITING   THE   SINS   OF  FATHERS —  379 

holy,  just,  and  good,  so  far  as  it  went.  If  the  resentment 
of  the  Psalmist  had  been  cherished  against  some  good  or 
innocent  man,  it  would  have  been  wicked  ;  as  it  was,  it 
was  righteous.  True,  if  the  Psalmist  had  lived  under  the 
better  and  brighter  dispensation  of  Christianity,  he  would 
neither  have  felt  the  reproaches  heaped  on  him  so  keenly, 
nor  moaned  under  them  so  piteously,  nor  resented  them 
so  warmly.     He  might  then  have  learned 

"  To  hate  the  sin  with  all  his  heart, 
And  still  the  sinner  love." 

He  might  have  counted  reproach  and  persecution  matters 
for  joy  and  gladness.  And  instead  of  calling  for  ven- 
geance on  his  enemies,  he  might  have  cried,  "  Father,  for- 
give them ;  for  they  know  not  what  they  do."  But  the 
Psalmist  did  not  live  under  the  dispensation  of  the  Gospel. 
He  lived  under  a  system  which,  good  as  it  was,  made 
nothing  perfect.  And  he  acted  in  accordance  with  that 
system.  And  the  intelligent  Christian,  and  the  enlightened 
lover  of  the  Bible,  will  not  be  ashamed  either  of  the 
Psalmist,  or  of  the  Book  which  gives  us  the  instructive 
and  interesting  revelations  of  his  experience. 

5.  Another  of  my  objections  to  the  Bible  was  grounded 
on  the  statement,  that  God  visits  the  iniquities  of  the 
fathers  on  the  children.  But  it  is  a  fact,  first,  that  children 
do  suffer  through  the  sins  of  their  fathers.  The  children 
of  drunkards,  thieves,  profligates,  all  suffer  through  the 
misdoings  of  their  parents.  It  is  also  a  fact,  that  men 
generally  suffer  through  the  misdoings  of  their  fellow-men. 
We  all  suffer  through  the  vices  of  our  neighbors  and 
countrymen.  The  sins  of  idlers,  spendthrifts,  misers, 
drunkards,  gluttons,  bigots,  persecutors,  tyrants,  thieves, 
murderers,  corrupt  politicians,  and  sinners  of  every  kind, 
are  in  this  sense  visited  on  us  all.  And  we  derive  advan- 
tages on  the  other  hand  from  the  virtues  of  the  good.  And 
it  would  be  a  strange  world,  if  no  one  could  help  or  hurt 
another.  It  is  better  things  are  as  they  are.  The  ad- 
vantages we  receive  from  the  good,  tend  to  draw  us  to  imi- 
tate their  virtues.  The  sufferings  entailed  on  us  by  the 
bad,  tend  to  deter  us  from  their  vices. 


380  ON  THEIR  CHILDREN. 

And  so  it  is  with  parents  and  children.  Children  are 
specially  prone  to  imitate  their  parents.  If  they  never 
suffered  from  the  evil  ways  of  their  parents,  they  would  be 
in  danger  of  walking  in  those  ways  themselves  for  ever. 
When  they  suffer  keenly  from  their  parents'  misdoings, 
there  is  ground  to  hope  that  they  will  themselves  do  better. 
I  have  known  persons  who  were  made  teetotalers  through 
the  sufferings  brought  on  them  by  the  drunkenness  of  their 
fathers.  And  on  the  other  hand;  the  blessings  entailed 
on  children  by  the  virtue  of  their  parents,  tend  to  draw 
them  to  goodness.  And  I  have  known  fathers,  who  would 
veature  on  evil  deeds  when  they  thought  only  of  the  suf- 
fering they  might  bring  on  themselves,  who  have  been 
staggered,  and  have  shrunk  from  their  contemplated  crimes, 
when  they  have  thought  of  the  ruin  they  might  bring  on 
their  children.  And  where  is  the  good  parent  who  is  not 
more  powerfully  stimulated  to  virtue  and  piety  by  thoughts 
of  the  blessings  which  he  may  secure  thereby  to  his  off- 
spring? The  whole  arrangement,  by  which  our  conduct 
is  made  to  entail  good  or  evil  on  others,  and  by  which  the 
conduct  of  others  is  made  to  entail  good  or  evil  on  us, 
tends  to  engage  us  all  more  earnestly  in  the  war  with  evil, 
and  to  make  us  labor  more  zealously  for  the  promotion 
of  knowledge  and  righteousness  among  all  mankind. 

6.  Another  of  my  objections  to  the  Bible  was  based  on 
those  passages  which  represent  God  as  causing  men  to  do  bad 
deeds.  Joseph  tells  his  brethren,  that  it  was  not  they,  but 
God,  who  sent  him  into  Egypt.  David  says,  '  Let  Shimei 
curse;  for  God  hath  bidden  him.'  Of  course,  the  words 
of  men  like  Joseph  and  David  are  not  always  the  words 
of  God.  But  Jesus  Himself  speaks  of  Judas  as  appointed 
or  destined  to  his  deed  of  treachery.  What  can  we  make 
of  such  passages  ?  Docs  God  make  men  wicked,  or  cause 
them  to  sin  ?  We  answer.  No.  How  is  it  then  ?  We 
answer,  What  God  docs  is  this :  when  men  have  made 
themselves  wicked.  He  turns  their  wickedness  to  good 
account,  by  causing  it  to  show  itself  in  some  particular 
way  rather  than  in  some  other.  God  did  not  make  the 
brethren  of  Joseph  envious  and  malicious ;  but  he  caused 
their  envy  and  malice  to  induce  them  to  sell  their  brother 
into  Egypt,  rather  than  to  kill  him  and  throw  him  into  a 


A   MYSTEEY   EXPLAINED.  381 

pit.  The  wickedness  was  their  own ;  the  particular  turn 
given  to  it  was  of  God.  God  did  not  make  Shimei  a 
base,  bad  man ;  but  Shimei  having  become  base  and  bad, 
God  chose  that  his  villany  should  spend  itself  on  David, 
rather  than  on  some  other  person.  God  did  not  make 
Judas  a  thief  and  a  traitor;  but  Judas  having  made 
himself  so,  God  so  places  him,  that  his  avarice,  his  dis- 
honesty and  his  treachery  shall  minister  to  the  accom- 
plishment of  a  great  beneficent  design.  God  did  not  teach 
the  spirits  that  deceived  Ahab  to  lie ;  but  those  spirits 
having  given  themselves  to  lying,  God  chose  that  they 
should  practise  their  illusions  on  Ahab  rather  thaa  on 
others.  God  did  not  make  Pharaoh  mean  or  tyrannical ; 
but  Pharaoh  having  become  so,  God  chooses  to  employ 
his  evil  dispositions  in  bringing  about  remarkable  displays 
of  His  power.  God  does  not  make  politicians  corrupt; 
but  politicians  having  become  corrupt,  God  chooses  to 
place  them  in  positions  in  which  they  can  rob,  and  tor- 
ment, and  dishonor  us,  and  so  incite  us  to  labor  more 
zealously  for  the  Christianization  of  our  country.  A  man 
becomes  a  thief,  and  says,  I  will  rob  John  Brown  to-night. 
And  he  places  himself  in  the  way  along  which  he  expects 
John  Brown  to  pass,  and  prepares  himself  for  his  deed 
of  plunder.  But  God  does  not  wish  to  have  John  Brown 
robbed ;  so  He  arranges  that  David  Jones,  a  man  whom 
he  wishes  to  be  relieved  of  his  money,  shall  pass  that  way, 
and  the  thief  robs  him.  The  dishonesty  is  the  thief's  own, 
but  it  is  God  that  determines  the  party  on  whom  it  shall 
be  practised. 

I  have  a  bull-dog  that  would  worry  a  certain  animal,  if 
I  would  take  it  where  the  animal  is  feeding.  But  I  choose 
to  bring  it  in  view  of  another  animal  which  I  wish  to  be 
destroyed,  and  he  worries  that.  I  do  not  make  the  bull- 
dog savage ;  but  I  use  his  savagery  for  a  good  purpose, 
instead  of  letting  him  gratify  it  for  an  evil  one.  This 
view  of  things  explains  a  multitude  of  difficult  passages 
of  Scripture,  and  enables  us  to  see  wisdom  and  goodness  in 
many  of  God's  doings,  in  which  we  might'otherwise  fancy 
we  saw  injustice  and  inconsistency. 

I  have  not  time  to  answer  all  my  old  objections  to  the 
Bible,  advanced  in  the  Berg  debate,  nor  have  I  time  to 


382  MANY   OBJECTIONS   OF   NO   FORCE. 

answer  any  of  them  at  full  length :  but  I  have  answered 
the  principal  ones;  and  the  answers  given  are  a  fair  sample 
of  what  might  be  given  to  all  the  objections. 

As  for  the  objections  grounded  on  little  contradictions, 
on  matters  of  little  or  no  moment,  they  require  no  answer. 
Whether  the  contradictions  are  real  or  only  apparent,  and 
whether  they  originated  with  copyists,  translators,  or  the 
original  human  authors  of  the  Books  in  which  they  are 
found,  it  is  not  worth  our  while  to  inquire.  They  do  not 
detract  from  the  worth  of  the  Bible  one  particle,  nor  are 
they  inconsistent  with  its  claims  to  a  super-human  origin. 

And  so  with  regard  to  the  expressions  scattered  up  and 
down  the  Scriptures  in  reference  to  natural  things,  which 
are  supposed  to  be  inconsistent  with  the  teachings  of  modern 
science.  They  are,  in  our  view,  of  no  moment  whatever. 
Men  writing  or  speaking  under  divine  impulse,  with  a 
view  to  the  promotion  of  religion  or  righteousness,  would 
be  sure,  when  they  alluded  to  natural  things,  to  speak  of 
them  according  to  the  ideas  of  their  times.  Their,  geo- 
graphy, their  astronomy,  and  even  their  historical  tradi- 
tions, would  be  those  of  the  people  among  whom  they 
lived.     Their  spirit,  their  aim,  would  be  holy  and  divine. 

Nor  have  we  any  reasori  to  wish  it  should  be  otherwise. 
Nor  had  our  old  theologians  ever  any  right,  or  Scriptural 
authority,  for  saying  it  was,  or  that  it  ought  to  be,  other- 
wise. To  us  it  is  a  pleasure  and  an  advantage  to  have  a 
record  of  the  ideas,  of  the  first  rude  guesses,  of  our  early 
ancestors,  with  regard  to  the  wonders  and  mysteries  of  the 
universe,  and  of  the  events  of  'the  far  backward  and 
abyss  of  time.'  It  comforts  us,  and  it  makes  us  thankful, 
to  see  from  what  small  and  blundering  beginnings  our 
numberless  volumes  of  science  have  sprung.  And  it  com- 
forts us,  and  makes  us  thankful,  to  see  how  the  first  faint 
streaks  of  spiritual  and  moral  light,  that  fell  on  our  race, 
gradually  increased,  till  at  length  the  day-spring  and  the 
morning  dawned,  and  then  the  full  bright  light  of  the  Sun 
of  Righteousness  brought  the  effulgence  of  the  Perfect 
Day. 

And  here  perhaps  may  be  the  place  for  a  few  additional 
remarks  on  Divine  inspiration. 

We  may  observe,  in  the  first  place,  that  a  man  moved 


TRUE  VIEW  OP  INSPIRATION.  383 

to  speak  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  will,  of  course,  speak  .for  holi- 
ness. His  aim  will  be  the  promotion  of  true  religious- 
ness, and  this  will  be  seen  in  all  he  says.''  He  may  not  be 
a  good  scholar.  He  may  not  speak  in  a  superhuman  style. 
His  reasoning  may  not  be  in  strict  accordance  with  the 
logic  of  the  schools.  His  dialect  may  be  unpolished.  He 
may  betray  a  lack  of  acquaintance  with  modern  science. 
He  may  not  be  perfect  even  in  his  knowledge  of  religion 
and  virtue.  But  he  will  show  a  godly  spirit.  The  aim 
and  tendency  of  all  ho  says  will  be  to  do  good,  to  promote 
righteousness  and  true  holiness. 

And  so  if  a  man  be  moved  to  write  by  the  Holy  Spirit, 
there  will  be  an  influence  favorable  to  holiness  in  all  he 
writes.  His  object  will  be  good.  If  he  be  a  scholar,  he 
will  unconsciously  show  his  learning ;  if  he  be  a  man 
of  science,  he  may  show  his  science.  If  he  be  ignorant 
of  science,  his  ignorance  may  show  itself.  The  Spirit  of 
Holiness  will  neither  remove  his  ignorance  nor  conceal  it : 
it  will  not  make  him  talk  like  a  learned  man  or  a  philoso- 
pher; but  it  will  make  him  talk  like  a  saint,  like  a  servant 
of  God,  and  a  friend  of  man.  His  writings  will  breathe 
the  spirit  and  show  the  love  of  holiness,  and  a  tendency  to 
all  goodness. 

And  these  are  just  the  qualities  we  see  in  the  Bible.  It 
breathes  a  holy  spirit.  It  tends  to  promote  holiness.  The 
writers  were  not  all  equally  advanced  in  holiness ;  hence 
there  is  a  diiference  in  their  writings.  They  were  not  alike 
in  their  mental  constitutions  or  their  natural  endowments. 
They  were  not  equal  in  learning,  or  in  a  knowledge  of 
nature,  or  in  general  culture.  They  differed  almost  end- 
lessly. And  their  writings  differ  in  like  manner.  But  they 
all  tend  to  holiness.  Some  of  the  writers  were  poets,  and 
their  writings  are  poetical.  Others  were  not  poets,  and 
their  writings  are  prose.  The  poets  were  not  all  equal. 
Some  of  them  were  very  good  poets,  and  their  writings  are 
full  of  beauty,  sublimity  and  power.  Others  of  them  were 
inferior  poets,  and  their  compositions  are  more  coarse,  or 
more  formal.  Some  of  the  writers  were  shepherds  or  herds- 
men, and  their  writings  are  rough  and  homely.  Some  of 
them  were  princes  and  nobles,  scholars  and  philosophers, 
and  their  writings  are  richer  and  more  polished.    Some  of 


384  THE   ACCOUNT   OF   CEEATION   INSPIRED. 

them  were  mere  clerks  and  chroniclers,  and  their  writings 
are  dry  and  common-place ;  others  were  fervid,  powerful 
geniuses,  and  their  works  are  full  of  fire  and  originality. 
Their  thoughts  startle  you.  Their  words  warm  you.  They 
are  spirit  and  life.  All  the  writers  show  their  natural 
qualities  and  tempers.  All  exhibit  the  defects  of  their 
learning  and  philosophy.  All  write  like  men, — like  men 
of  the  age,  and  of  the  rank,  and  of  the  profession,  and 
of  the  country,  to  which  they  belong.  They  write,  in 
many  respects,  like  other  men.  The  thing  that  distin- 
guished them  is,  a  spirit  of  holiness ;  a  regard,  a  zeal,  for 
God  and  righteousness,  and  for  the  instruction  and  welfare 
of  mankind.  In  their  devotion  to  God  and  goodness  they 
are  all  alike,  though  not  all  equal ;  but  in  other  respects 
they  diifer  almost  endlessly.  In  their  devotion  to  God  and 
goodness,  they  are  unlike  the  mass  of  pagan  worldly 
writers,  but  not  so  unlike  them  in  every  other  respect. 

The  divine  inspiration  of  the  sacred  writers,  or  their 
wondrous  zeal  for  righteousness,  is  hardly  a  matter  for 
dispute.  It  is  a  simple,  plain,  palpable  matter  of  fact. 
We  see  it  on  almost  every  page  of  their  writings.  We 
feel  it  in  almost  every  sentence. 

Take  the  account  of  Creation  in  Genesis.  No  one  could 
have  written  that  document  under  the  influence  of  an  un- 
godly or  unholy  spirit.  It  speaks  throughout  with  the 
utmost  reverence  of  God.  It  represents  Him  as  acting 
from  the  best  and  noblest  feeling.  He  works,  not  for  His 
own  interest  or  honor,  but  solely  for  the  purpose  of  dijiiis- 
^  ing  happiness.  He  not  only  does  the  greatest,  the  best, 
the  noblest  things,  but  He  does  them  with  a  hearty  good 
will.  Every  now  and  then  He  stops  to  examine  His 
works,  and  is  delighted  to  find  that  everything  is  good.  It 
is  plain  He  meant  them  to  be  good.  He  creates  countless 
multitudes  of  happy  beings,  and  docs  it  all  from  impulses 
of  His  own  generous  nature.  All  living  things  are  made 
to  be  happy,  and  all  nature  is  made  and  adapted  to  min- 
ister to  their  happiness.  And  when  at  length  He  has  com- 
pleted His  works,  crowning  all  with  the  creation  of  man, 
He  looks  on  all  again,  and  with  evident  satisfaction  and 
delight,  declares  them  all  very  good. 

Read  the  account  of  His  creation  of  man.     "And  God 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE   STORY   ALL   DIVINE.  385 

said,  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image,  after  our  likeness:  and 
let  them  have  dominion  over  the  fish  gf  the  sea,  and  over 
the  fowl  of  the  air,  and  over  the  cattle,  and  over  all  the 
earth,  and  over  every  creeping  thing  that  creepeth  upon 
the  earth.  So  God  created  man  in  his  own  image,  in  the 
image  of  God  created  he  him,  male  and  female  created  he 
them.  And  God  blessed  them,  and  God  said  unto  them, 
Be  fruitful,  and  multiply,  and  replenish  the  earth,  and  sub- 
due it :  and  have  dominion  over  the  fish  of  the  sea,  and 
over  the  fowl  of  the  air,  and  over  every  living  thing  that 
raoveth  upon  the  earth.  And  God  said.  Behold,  I  have 
given  you  every  herb  bearing  seed,  which  is  upon  the  face 
of  all  the  earth,  and  every  tree,  in  the  which  is  the  fruit 
of  a  tree  yielding  seed ;  to  you  it  shall  be  for  meat.  And 
to  every  beast  of  the  earth,  and  to  every  fowl  of  the  air, 
and  to  everything  that  creepeth  upon  the  earth,  wherein 
there  is  life,  I  have  given  eveiy  green  herb  for  meat:  and  it 
was  so.  And  God  saw  everything  that  he  had  made,  and 
behold,  it  was  very  good.  And  the  evening  and  the  morn- 
ing were  the  sixth  day."  There  can  be  no  mistake  as  to 
the  spirit  and  disposition  of  the  Great  Being  whom  we  see 
working,  and  hear  speaking,  in  this  passage.  Everything 
savors  of  pure  and  boundless  love. 

1.  He  makes  man  male  and  female,  that  they  may 
have  the  comfort  and  advantages  of  society,  and  of  love 
and  friendship  in  their  highest,  holiest,  and  most  intimate 
form. 

2.  Then  He  makes  them  in  His  own  image,  which,  what- 
ever else  it  may  mean,  means  ungrudging  and  unbounded 
goodness  on  His  part.  There  can  be  nothing  higher, 
greater,  better,  happier  than  God.  To  make  man  in  His 
own  image,  and  to  appoint  him,  so  far  as  i)Ossible,  to  a  like 
position,  and  a  like  lot  with  Himself,  was  the  grandest  dis- 
play of  goodness  possible. 

3.  And  He  gives  the  man  and  woman  dominion  over 
every  living  thing, — makes  them,  next  to  Himself,  lords 
of  the  universe.  And  He  blesses  them,  speaks  to  thera 
sweet  good  words ;  and  His  blessing  maketh  rich  and  adds 
no  sorrow.  He  encourages  them  to  be  fruitful ;  to  multi- 
ply, and  replenish  the  earth,  and  to  subdue  it, — to  turn  it 
ever  more  to  their  advantage.      He  in  effect   places  all 

25 


386  TRUE   MEANING   OF   GENESIS   FIRST. 

things  at  their  disposal ;  every  green  herb,  bearing  seed, 
and  every  tree  yielding  fruit,  is  giv(?n  to  them  for  food ;  and 
they  are  at  tiie  same  time  given  for  food  to  every  beast 
of  the  field,  and  to  every  fowl  of  the  air,  and  to  every- 
thing that  creepeth  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  A  richer, 
sweeter  story, — a  story  of  more  cheerful,  generous  liberal- 
ity,— a  picture  more  creditable  or  honorable  to  God,  one 
cannot  imagine. 

And  the  story  is  all  of  a  piece.  There  is  not  ajar  in  it 
from  first  to  last.  Its  consistency  is  complete.  Whatever 
else  may  be  said  of  the  author  of  this  account,  it  is  certain 
that  he  was  moved  by  a  Holy  Spirit,  that  he  had  the  loft- 
iest and  worthiest  views  of  God,  and  that  he  loved  Him 
with  all  his  heart  and  soul.  He  believed  in  a  good  and 
holy  God,  and  in  a  good  and  holy  life. 

I  say  nothing  about  the  harmony  or  discord  between 
this  account  of  Creation,  and  the  facts  of  Geographical, 
Astronomical,  or  Geological  science.  I  do  not  trouble 
myself  about  such  matters.  To  me  it  is  a  question  of  no 
importance  or  concern  whatever.  And  I  have  no  trouble 
about  the  interpretation  of  the  story. 

It  wants  no  interpretation.  It  is  as  plain  as  the  light. 
And  I  take  it  in  its  simple,  obvious,  literal,  natural  sense. 
I  keep  to  the  old-fashioned  meaning — the  meaning  gener- 
ally given  to  it  before  the  disputes  about  Geology  and  As- 
tronomy seemed  to  render  a  new  and  unnatural  one  neces- 
sary. The  days  of  the  story  are  natural  days,  and  the 
nights  are  natural  nights.  The  length  of  each  of  the  six 
days  was  the  same  as  that  of  the  Sabbath  day.  The  seven 
days  made  an  ordinary  week.  The  first  verse  does  not  refer 
to  a  Creation  previous  to  the  week  in  which  man  was  made. 
It  is  a  statement  of  the  work  of  Creation  in  general,  of 
which  the  verses  following  give  the  particulars.  All  the 
work  that  is  spoken  of  was  believed  by  the  writer  to  have 
been  begun  and  ended  in  six  ordinary  natural  days. 

As  to  whether  the  story  be  literally  or  scientifically  cor- 
rect or  not,  I  do  not  care  to  inquire.  I  am  satisfied  that 
it  is  the  result  of  divine  inspiration — that  lie  wiio  wrote  it 
or  sj)oke  it  was  moved  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  Spirit 
of  truth,  of  love,  of  purity,  of  holiness  pervades  it  from 
beginning  to  end.     It  does  justice  to  God ;  it  bears  be- 


BOTH   ACCOUNTS   OF   CREATION   INSPIRED.  387 

Dignly  on  man ;  it  favors  all  goodness.  I  see,  T  feel  the 
blessed  Spirit  in  every  line,  and  I  wan,t  no  more. 

We  are  told  that  there  are  tico  accounts  of  Creation,  and 
that  on  some  points  they  diifer  from  each  other.  For  any- 
thing I  know  this  may  be  the  case.  But  one  thing  is  cer- 
tain, they  do  not  differ  in  the  views  they  give  of  God  or 
of  His  objects.  They  both  represent  Him  as  a  being  not 
only  of  almighty  power  and  infinite  wisdom,  but  of  pure, 
unsullied,  boundless  generosity.  In  truth,  the  only  im- 
pulse to  Creation  that  presents  itself  is,  th&  natural,  spon- 
taneous goodness  of  the  Creator.  And  on  some  jToints  the 
manifestations  of  God's  love  and  purity,  of  His  righteous- 
ness and  holiness,  are  more  full  and  striking  in  the  second 
account  than  in  the  first.  God's  desire  for  the  social  happi- 
ness of  man  comes  out  more  fully.  Man,  aeci?rding  to  this 
second  account,  is  made  previous  to  woman,  and  permitted 
for  a  time  to  experience  the  sense  of  comparative  loneli- 
ness. He  is  left  to  look  through  the  orders  of  inferior 
creatures,  in  search  of  a  mate^  and  })ermitted  ta  feel,  for  a 
moment,  the  sense  of  disappointment.  At  length  he  is  cast 
into  a  deep  and  quiet  sleep,  and  when  he  awakes,  his  mate, 
his  counterpart,  an  exact  answer  to  his  wants,  his  cravings, 
perfect  in  her  loveliness^  stands  before  his  eyes,  and  fills 
his  soul  with  love  and  ecstacy.  Marriage  is  instituted  in 
its  purest  and  highest  form.  The  law  of  marriage  is  pro- 
claimed, which  is  jnst,  and  good,  and  holy  in  the  highest 
degree.  Provision  is  made  for  the  comfort  and  welfare 
of  the  new-created  pair.  Thfir  home  i*  a  paradise,  or 
garden  of  delights ;  their  task  is  to  dress  it  aTid  to  keep  it. 
Their  life  is  love.  The  general  law  under  which  they  are 
placed  is  made- known  to  them,  and  tfiey  are  graciously 
warned  against  transgression.  The  law  is  the  perfection 
of  wisdom  and  generosity.  It  allows  them  an  all  but  un- 
limited liberty  of  indulgence.  They  may  eat  of  the  fruit 
of  every  tree  in  the  garden  but  one.  Indulgence  must 
have  its  limits  somewhere,  or  there  could  be  no  virtue,  and 
without  virtue  there  could  be  no  true  happiness. 

Law,  trial,  and  temptation  are  all  essential  to  virtue  and 
righteousness.  Here  they  are  all  supplied ;  supplied  so  far  as 
we  can  see,  in  their  best  and  most  considerate  forms.  No  law 
is  given  to  the  lower  animals.     No  self-denial  is  required 


388    THE  ACCOUNT  OF  CEEATION  TRUE  PHILOSOPHY. 

of  them.  They  are  incapable  of  virtue  or  rigliteousness, 
and  are  therefore  left  lawless.  A  child  left  to  himself  would 
bring  his  mother  to  shame;  a  man  left  to  himself  would 
rush  headlong  to  destruction.  But  birds  and  beasts  do 
best  when  left  to  themselves,  or  when  left  to  the  law  in 
their  own  natures.  Their  instincts,  or  God's  own  impulses, 
urge  them  ever  in  the  right  direction,  and  secure  to  them 
the  kind  and  amount  of  happiness  they  are  capable  of  enjoy- 
ing. They  are  incapable  of  virtue,  so  they  are  made  in- 
cajjable  of  vice.  They  cannot  share  the  highest  pleasures ; 
they  shall  not  be  exposed  therefore  to  the  bitterest  pains. 
Man  is  capable  of  both  virtue  and  vice,  and  he  must  either 
rise  to  the  one  or  sink  to  the  other.  He  cannot  stay  mid- 
way with  the  lower  animals.  Man  must  be  happy  or  mis- 
erable in  a  way  of  his  own  ;  he  cannot  have  the  portion 
of  the  brute.  He  must  either  be  the  happiest  or  the  most 
miserable  creature  on  earth.  He  must  either  dwell  in  a 
paradise,  or  writhe  in  a  purgatory.  He  must  either  live 
in  happy  fellowship  with  God,  or  languish  and  die  beneath 
his  frown.  And  in  the  nature  of  things,  the  possibility 
of  one  implies  liability  to  the  other.  This  is  man's  great- 
ness, and  bliss,  and  glory,  that  he  is  ca})able  of  righteous- 
ness; capable  of  fellowship,  unity,  with  God  ;  and  capable 
of  progress,  improvement,  without  limits,  of  life  without 
end,  and  of  happiness  without  bounds. 

All  this,  which  is  the  perfection  of  true  philosophy,  the 
sum  of  all  true  wisdom  and  knowledge,  is  presented  in  the 
most  striking,  astounding,  and  intelligible  form  in  this 
second,  or  suj)plementary  account  of  creation.  Duty  is  de- 
fined in  the  clearest  manner.  It  is  enjoined  in  the  plainest 
terms.  The  results  of  transgression  are  foretold  with  all 
fidelity.  The  great  principle  is.revealed  that  righteousness 
is  life  and  happiness,  and  that  sin  is  misery  and  death. 
And  man  is  left  to  his  choice. 

Here  we  have  the  substance,  the  elements,  of  all  know- 
ledge, of  all  law,  of  all  duty,  of  all  retribution.  We  have 
the  principles  of  the  divine  government.  We  have  the  sub- 
stance of  all  history.  We  have  in  substance,  the  lessons,  the 
warnings,  the  counsels,  the  encouragements,  the  prophecies 
and  revelations  of  all  times  and  of  all  worlds.  The  tendency 
of  the  whole  story  is  to  make  us  feel  that  righteousness  is 


BE  IT  HISTOEY  OE  ALLEGORY,  IT  IS  INSPIRED.     S89 

the  one  great,  unchanging  and  eternal  good ;  and  that  sin, 
unchecked  indulgence,  is  the  one  great,  eternal,  and  un- 
changing curse.  The  spirit  of  the  story,  its  drift,  its  aim, 
is  holiness  from  first  to  last.  The  writer  is  moved  through- 
out by  the  Holy  Spirit — the  Spirit  of  truth  and  righteous- 
ness— the  Spirit  of  God.  We  see  it,  we  feel  it,  in  every  part. 
We  want  no  proof  of  the  fact  in  the  shape  of  miracle ;  the 
proof  is  in  the  story  itself  It  is  not  a  matter  of  dispute; 
it  is  a  matter  of  plain  unquestionable  fact.  And  that  the 
story  is  essentially,  morally,  and  eternally  true,  is  proved 
by  all  the  events  of  history,  by  all  the  facts  of  conscious- 
ness, and  by  the  laws  and  constitution  of  universal  nature. 

And  in  the  history  of  man's  first  sin  as  here  given,  and 
in  the  account  of  its  effects,  and  in  the  conduct  of  God  to 
the  sinning  pair,  I  find,  not  the  monster  fictions  of  an  im- 
moral and  blasphemous  theology,  but  the  most  important 
elements  of  moral,  religious,  and  physical  science.  And 
instead  of  feeling  tempted  to  ridicule  the  document,  I  am 
constrained  to  gaze  on  it  with  the  highest  admiration  and 
the  profoundest  reverence  for  its  amazing  wisdom. 

As  to  whether  the  account  of  the  creation  of  the  man 
and  the  woman,  and  the  story  of  the  forbidden  fruit,  and  of 
the  serpent,  and  of  the  tree  of  life,  are  to  be  taken  literally 
or  allegorically,  I  have  no  concern  at  present.  My  sole 
concern  with  it  is  that  of  a  Christian  teacher  and  moralist. 
The  only  question  with  me  is :  'Is  it  divinely  inspired ? 
Does  the  writer  speak  as  a  man  moved  by  the  Holy  Spirit  ? 
Is  it  the  tendency  of  the  story  to  make  men  lawless,  reck- 
lessly self-indulgent,  regardless  of  God  and  duty ;  or  is  it 
the  tendency  of  the  story  to  make  men  fear  God  and  work 
righteousness  ?'  And  that  is  a  question  answered  by  the 
story  itself.  On  other  matters  the  author  writes  as  a  man 
of  his  age  and  country ;  on  this,  the  only  matter  of  im- 
portance, he  writes  as  a  man  moved  by  the  Spirit  of  God. 

And  what  I  say  of  the  accounts  of  Creation,  I  say  of  the 
history  of  Cain  and  Abel,  of  Enoch  and  Job,  of  Noah  and 
the  Flood,  of  Abraham  and  Lot,  of  Moses  and  his  laws, 
and  of  the  Hebrews  and  their  history,  of  the  Psalms  and 
Proverbs,  of  the  Prophets  and  Apostles.  All  have  one 
aim  and  tendency ;  all  make  for  righteousness.  The  writers 
are  all  moved  by  one  Spirit  —the  Spirit  of  holiness. 


390  A   PUBLIC  DISCUSSION, 

With  the  exception  of  the  Book  called  Solomon's  Song, 
and  some  other  unimportant  portions  of  the  Bible,  the 
Scriptures  all  bear  unquestionable  marks,  are  full  from 
Genesis  to  Revelations,  of  proofs  indubitable,  that  they  are 
the  products  of  divine  inspiration ;  that  their  authors 
MTote  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  Whatever 
their  rank  or  profession,  whatever  their  position  or  educa- 
tion, whatever  their  age  or  country,  whatever  their  particu- 
lar views  on  matters  of  learning  or  science,  the  sacred  wri- 
ters all  speak  as  men  under  holy,  heavenly  influences,  and 
their  writings,  however  they  may  differ  in  style,  or  size,  or 
other  respects,  are  all,  "  profitable  for  doctrine,  for  reproof, 
for  correction,  for  instruction  in  righteousness :  that  the 
man  of  God  may  be  perfect,  thoroughly  furnished  unto  all 
good  works." 

16.  I  have  been  asked  why  I  do  not  publish  a  refuta- 
tion of  my  former  reasonings  one  by  one,  and  a  full  ex- 
planation and  defence  of  my  present  views.  I  answer,  my 
only  reason  for  not  doing  this,  so  far  as  it  is  really  desira- 
ble, is  a  want  of  time.  I  did  something  in  this  line  in  my 
Review.  I  have  done  a  little  more  in  my  lectures  on  the 
Bible  and  on  Faith  and  Science,  and  I  hope,  in  time,  to 
do  more. 

17.  I  have  been  asked  again,  why  I  shun  discussion  on 
the  subject.  I  answer,  I  have  never  done  so.  When  those 
who  invite  me  to  lecture  wish  me  to  allow  discussion,  I 
comply  with  their  wishes.  I  agreed  to  a  public  discussion 
at  Northampton ;  but  the  person  who  was  to  have  met  me 
drew  back.  Again,  if  any  one  really  wishes  to  discuss 
M'ith  me,  he  can  do  so  through  the  press.  I  published  my 
views  in  my  Review  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  ago.  I  have 
published  many  of  them  since  in  a  number  of  pamphlets, 
giving  all  as  good  an  opportunity  of  discussing  them  aff 
they  can  wish.  And  there  is  not  the  same  necessity  for  a 
man  who  has  published  his  views  through  the  press,  to  in- 
vite discussion  on  the  platform,  as  there  is  for  a  man  who 
has  not  given  his  views  through  the  press. 

The  following  letter,  written  to  a  friend  in  Ncwcastle- 
on-Tyne,  may  explain  my  views  on  this  point  a  little  more 
fully:- 

My  dear  Sir, — In  answer  to  your  question  whether  I 


NEITHER  SOUGHT   NOR  SHUNNED.  391 

will  meet  the  Representative  of  Secularism  in  debate,  I 
would  say,  that  I  had  rather,  for  se^jgral  reasons,  spend 
what  remains  of  my  life  and  strength  in  peaceful  labors  as 
a  preacher,  a  lecturer,  and  an  author.  I  seem  to  have 
done  enough  in  the  way  of  public  discussion.  And  I  have 
not  the  amount  of  physical  or  nervous  energy,  or  the 
strength  of  voice  and  lungs,  which  I  once  had.  1  am  suf- 
fering, not  only  from  the  effects  of  age,  but  from  a  terrible 
shock  received  in  a  collision  on  the  railway,  causing  serious 
paralysis  of  my  right  side,  and  greatly  reducing  the  force 
and  action  of  my  heart  and  brain. 

Then  I  am  not  the  representative  of  the  Church,  or 
of  any  section  of  it.  I  can  only  stand  forth  as  the  advo- 
cate of  my  own  views.  Further ;  there  are  many  ques- 
tions connected  with  the  Bible,  which  appear  to  me  more 
fitted  for  quiet  thought  and  friendly  discussion  among 
scholars  and  critics,  than  for  debate  in  a  popular  audience. 
On  many  of  those  points  Christian  divines  differ  among 
themselves.  They  differ,  for  instance,  to  some  extent,  in 
their  views  of  Bible  inspiration  and  the  sacred  canon ;  they 
differ  as  to  the  worth  of  manuscripts,  texts,  and  versions, 
the  validity  of  various  readings,  the  origin  and  significance 
of  discrepancies  in  some  of  the  historical  and  chronological 
portions  of  the  Bible,  &c.,  &c.  On  none  of  these  points 
do  I  consider  myself  called  upon  to  state  or  advocate  any 
particular  views. 

There  are  however  points  of  a  broader  and  more  im- 
portant character,  on  which  a  public  popular  discussion 
might  be  proper  and  useful ;  such  as  the  general  drift  and 
scope  of  the  Bible,  or  its  aim  and  tendency  ;  the  character 
and  tendency  of  Christianity  as  presented  in  the  life  and 
teachings  of  its  Author,  and  in  the  writings  of  the  Apos- 
tles ;  the  comparative  merits  of  Christianity,  and  of  Athe- 
istic Secularism  as  set  fi)rth  in  the  writings  of  Secularists. 
I  understand  the  leaders  of  the  Secularists  to  teach,  that 
Christianity  is  exceedingly  mischievous  in  its  tendency, — 
that  it  is  adverse  to  civilization,  and  to  the  temporal  inter- 
ests of  mankind  generally, — that  the  Bible  is  the  curse 
of  Europe,  &g.  These  are  subjects  on  which  a  pojjular 
audience  may  be  as  well  qualified  to  judge,  as  scholars  and 
critics.     And  if  you  particularly  desire  it,  I  will  authorize 


392  JESUS   THE  GREAT  CONVERTING  POWER. 

you  to  arrange  for  a  discussion  on  them  between  me  and 
such  representative  of  Secularism  as  you  may  think  fit.  I 
should  not  however  like  the  discussion  to  occupy  more 
than  three  nights  in  any  one  week.  And  I  should  wish 
effectual  precautions  to  be  taken  to  secure  a  peaceful  and 
orderly  debate.  It  will  be  necessary  also  to  have  the 
subjects  to  be  discussed  plainly  and  definitely  stated. 
Yours,  most  respectfully, 

Joseph  Barker. 
18.  I  may  now  add,  that  the  evidences  which  had  most 
to  do  in  convincing  me  of  the  truth  and  divinity  of'Chris- 
tianity,  were  the  internal  ones.  I  was  influenced  more  by 
moral  and  spiritual,  than  by  historical  and  critical  consider- 
ations. I  do  not  think  lightly  of  Paley's  works  on  the 
Evidences,  or  of  Miall's  Bases  of  Belief,  or  of  Dr.  Hop- 
kins', or  Dr.  Channing's,  or  Dr.  Priestley's  Evidences 
of  Christianity }  but  the  Bible,  and  especially  the  story 
of  Christ,  was  the  principal  instrument  of  my  conversion. 
I  believed  first  with  my  heart  rather  than  my  head.  True, 
my  head  soon  justified  the  belief  of  my  heart :  but  my 
heart  was  first  in  the  business.  I  believe  in  miracles;  I 
think  them  of  great  importance.  I  believe  especially  in 
the  miracles  of  Christ.  But  that  which  melted  my  heart ; 
that  which  won  my  infinite  admiration  ;  that  which  filled 
me  with  unspeakable  love  and  gratitude;  that  which 
made  me  a  Christian  and  a  Christian  believer,  was  Christ 
himself  Even  His  miracles  moved  me  more  as  expres- 
sions of  His  love,  than  as  proofs  of  His  power.  The 
great  thing  that  overpowered  me  was  the  infinite  excel- 
lency of  Christ,  and  the  wonderful  adaptation  of  Christi- 
anity to  the  spiritual  and  moral,  the  social  and  physical, 
wants  of  mankind.  Christ  Himself  is  His  own  best  advo- 
cate. His  life  and  character  are  His  strongest  claims  on 
our  love  and  loyalty.  And  His  religion,  like  the  sun,  is 
its  own  best  evidence  of  its  divinity.  The  infinite  worth 
of  the  sun — the  astonishing  and  infinitely  varied  adapta- 
tion of  his  light  and  warmth  to  the  wants  of  every  living 
thing — his  wonderful  and  beneficent  effects  on  plants  and 
trees,  on  animals  and  man,  are  the  strongest  proofs  of  His 
Divine  original.  And  so  with  Christianity,  the  Sun 
of  the  moral  and  spiritual  world.     It  proves  its  heavenly 


HIS  TEACHINGS  THE  TRUE  PHILOSOPHY.  393 

origin  by  its  amazing  adaptation  to  man's  nature,  and  by  its 
almighty  tendency  to  promote  his  improvement  and  per- 
fection ;  by  the  light,  the  life,  the  blessedness  it  gives  ;  by 
the  love  it  kindles  ;  by  the  glorious  transformations  which 
it  effects  in  depraved  individuals  and  degenerate  communi- 
ties; by  the  peace,  the  hope,  the  joy  it  inspires;  and 
by  the  courage  and  strength  it  imparts  both  in  life  and  in 
death. 

19.  The  form  in  which  Christianity  presented  itself  to 
me,  and  the  way  in  which  it  operated  on  my  soul,  may  be 
seen  from  the  articles  I  wrote  on  "  Christ  and  His  teach- 
ings," about  the  time  of  my  conversion.  They  refer  to 
the  doctrine  of  Christ  with  regard  to  a  Fatherly  God,  and 
His  loving  care  of  His  creatures.  The  first  thing  that 
struck  me  in  this  doctrine  was  its  beauty  and  tenderness. 
It  is  just  the  kind  of  doctrine  which  the  hearts  of  the 
best  of  men  would  wish  to  be  true.  It  answers  to  the 
weaknesses  and  the  wants  of  our  nature ;  to  the  longings  and 
aspirations  of  our  souls.  It  is  full  of  consolation.  It  makes 
the  universe  complete.  It  makes  man's  life  worth  living. 
It  makes  the  greatness,  the  vastness,  the  infinitude  of  our  in- 
tellectual and  affectional  nature  a  blessing.  It  gives  peace 
— the  peace  that  passes  understanding.  It  gives  joy, — 
the  joy  that  is  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory.  It  opens 
our  lips  in  the  sight  of  sorrow,  and  enables  us  to  give  the 
sufferer  consolation.  It  gives  the  universe  a  head.  It 
gives  it  unity.  It  gives  to  man  a  Ruler.  It  gives  to 
law  a  commanding  force.  It  gives  to  conscience  a  con- 
trolling power.  It  makes  virtue  duty,  while  it  gives  to  it 
fresh  grandeur  and  beauty.  It  exalts  it  in  our  eyes  ;  and 
it  endears  it  to  our  hearts.  And  it  furnishes  the  all-per- 
fect example.  And  it  makes  reasonable  the  inculcation 
of  humility  and  charity,  of  forbearance  and  forgiveness. 
And  it  dignifies  the  work  of  beneficence.  It  makes  us  the 
allies  and  fellow-workers  of  the  infinite.  It  makes  us  one 
with  Him.  In  teaching  the  ignorant,  in  bringing  back 
the  erring,  in  strengthening  the  weak,  in  reforming  the 
vicious,  in  cheering  the  sad,  in  blessing  the  world,  we  are 
working  as  children  in  fellowship  with  their  infinite  Father, 
and  the  pulses  of  our  generous  nature  beat  in  harmony 
with  the  living,  loving,  all-pervading  Spirit  of  the  universe. 


394  JESUS  THE  PERFECTION  OF  GOODNESS. 

And  while  it  brightens  the  present,  it  gilds  the  future. 
It  makes  a  blessed  immortality  a  natural  certainty. 
If  God  our  Father  lives,  then  we  His  children  shall  live 
also.  •  Death  is  abolished.  Day  dawns  at  last  on  the 
night  of  the  grave.  Earth  is  our  birth-place  and  our  nur- 
sery ;  death  is  the  gate-way  to  infinity,  and  there  is  our 
glorious  and  eternal  home.  Our  work  for  ever  is  the  joy- 
ous work  of  doing  good.  Our  future  life  is  an  eternal  un- 
folding, and  a  delightful  exercise,  of  our  highest  powers. 
The  mysteries  of  universal  nature  open  to  our  view,  and  in 
the  confluence  of  the  delights  of  knowledge  and  the  trans- 
ports of  benevolence,  our  joy  is  full;  our  bliss  complete. 

This  doctrine,  in  the  ibrm  in  which  Jesu-s  presents  it, 
has  hold  of  the  hearts  of  nearly  the  whole  population 
of  Christendom.  It  has  the  strongest  hold  on  the  best. 
Even  those  who  doubt  it,  doubt  it  with  a  sigh ;  and  those 
who  give  it  up,  surrender  it  with  regret.  And  as  they 
make" the  sacrifice  the  earth  grows  dark.  And  life  grows 
sad.  And  nature  wears  the  air  of  desolation.  The  music 
of  tiie  woods  becomes  less  sweet.  The  beauty  of  the  flowers 
becomes  less  charming.  There  creeps  a  dreary  silence  over 
land  and  sea.  Existence  loses  more  than  half  its  charms. 
The  light  of  life  burns  dim.  The  past,  the  present,  and 
the  future  all  are  cheerless.  The  world  is  one  vast  orphan- 
house.  Mankind  are  fatherless.  Our  dearest  ones  are 
desolate.  Arjd  language  has  no  word  to  comfort  them. 
The  lover  sighs.  The  husband  and  the  father  weeps.  The 
bravest  stand  aghast.  The  charm  of  life,  the  unmixed 
bliss  of  being,  is  no  more. 

But  the  question  of  questions  is,  Is  the  doctrine  true  ? 
The  heart  says  it  is,  and  even  the  intellect  acknowledges 
tliat  there  are  ten  thousand  appearances  in  nature  which 
cannot  be  accounted  for  on  any  other  principle.  We  can- 
not at  present  dwell  on  the  subject;  but  the  doctrine 
of  Jesus  with  regard  to  God  and  immortality  is  the  grand- 
est and  most  consoling,  and  is  the  most  adapted  to 
strengthen  the  soul  to  duty,  and  to  cheer  and  support  it 
under  suffering,  that  the  mind  of  man  can  conceive. 

And  then  as  to  Jesus  Himself,  the  love  and  the  reverence 
with  which  He  is  honored  by  so  large  a  portion  of  the 
foremost  nations  of  the  earth,  are  no  mistake, — no  accident. 


THE  FIRST  TO  WELCOME  HOME.  395 

They  are  the  natural  result  of  His  worth  and  excellency. 
They  are  the  natural  response  of  the  generous  heart 
of  humanity,  to  its  wisest  Teacher,  itg^oftiest  Example,  and 
its  greatest  Benefactor.  The  devoutest  love,  the  liveliest 
gratitude,  the  richest  honors,  the  costliest  offerings  are  his, 
— He  deserves  them  all.  And  His  name  shall  remain,  and 
His  fame  shall  spread,  as  long  as  the  sun  and  moon  en- 
dure. 

All  nations  love  and  adore  the  good.  Men  will  even 
die  for  them.  What  wonder  then  that  Jesus  should  be  so 
loved  ?  What  wonder  that  so  many  tongues  should  j^raise 
Him,  so  many  hearts  adore  Him,  and  so  many  nations  bow 
before  Him,  and  accept  Him  as  their  Lord  ?  For  He  de- 
voted Himself  to  the  service,  not  of  a  class  or  a  nation, 
but  of  the  world.  The  sick,  the  poor,  the  ignorant,  the 
fallen ;  the  little  innocent  children,  the  wronged  and  out- 
cast woman,  the  hated  Samaritan,  the  despised  Pagan,  the 
obnoxious  publican,  the  youthful  prodigal,  the  dying 
penitent,  the  cruel  persecutor,  all  shared  His  love,  His 
pity,  and  His  prayers.  He  lived.  He  taught.  He  died 
for  all. 

20.  The  first  Christians  that  invited  me  to  preach  were 
the  Methodist  Reformers  of  Wolverhampton.  The  next 
were  the  Primitive  Methodists  of  Tunstall  and  Bilston. 
The  Primitive  Methodists  at  Tunstall  invited  me  to  join 
their  community,  and  as  soon  as  I  consistently  could,  I  did 
so.  I  was  afterwards  accepted  as  a  local  preacher.  My 
labors  as  a  preacher  and  lecturer  have  been  mostly  in  con- 
nection with  that  community.  I  was  specially,  struck  with 
the  zeal,  the  labors,  and  the  usefulness  of  the  Primitive 
Methodists  while  on  my  way  from  the  wilds  of  error ;  and 
my  intercourse  with  its  ministers  and  members  since  I  be- 
came a  Christian,  has  proved  to  me  an  unspeakable  com- 
fort and  blessing.  I  have  received  from  them  the  greatest 
kindness :  and  I  pray  God  that  I  may  prove  a  comfort  and 
a  blessing  to  them  in  return. 

21.  I  had  great  sacrifices  to  make  when  I  renounced  my 
connection  with  the  unbelievers  and  became  a  Christian, 
and  for  some  time  I  and  my  family  had  experience  of  se- 
vere trials.  We  had  to  give  up  our  old  business,  and  it 
seemed  impossible  to  obtain  a  new  one,  and  for  a  time  we 


396  TRIALS,   LOSSES, — BUT  ALL  CAME  RIGHT. 

were  threatened  with  the  bitterness  of  want.  We  were 
unwilling  to  ask  a  favor  of  any  Christian  party,  lest  our 
motives  for  embracing  Christianity  should  be  suspected ; 
and  at  times  I  felt  perplexed  and  sad.  One  day  my  eldest 
son,  seeing  I  was  depressed,  said,  "  Father,  dear,  don't  be 
troubled.  We  must  trust  in  God  now.  I  do  trust  in 
Him  ;  and  I  am  so  happy  to  think  that  we  are  all  Chris- 
tians, that  I  can  bear  anything."  God  bless  his  dear  good 
soul.  We  did  trust  in  God,  and  He  sustained  us.  He 
supplied  our  wants.  He  overruled  all  things  for  our  good. 
And  we  can  now  say,  "  The  lines  have  fallen  to  us  in 
pleasant  places ;  we  have  a  goodly  heritage." 

22.  I  have  met  with  some  unpleasantnesses  since  my  re- 
turn to  Christ ;  but  I  am  not  sure  that  they  are  worth 
naming ;  and  for  the  present  they  shall  remain  unnamed. 
I  have  met  with  many  things  of  a  very  pleasant  character. 
Thousands  that  followed  me  into  doubt  have  come  back 
with  me  to  Christianity.  Thousands  that  were  sinking, 
were  saved  by  my  conversion.  I  believe  I  may  say  thou- 
sands of  unbelievers  that  were  not  led  into  doubt  by  me, 
have  been  redeemed  from  their  wretchedness  through  my 
example  and  labors.  Some  young  ministers  have  been 
kept  from  rash  and  ruinous  steps  by  the  story  of  my  ex- 
perience. Many  believers  have  been  strengthened  in  their 
faith  and  encouraged  in  their  Christian  labors  under  my 
sermons  and  lectures.  Many  have  been  benefited  by  my 
publications.  My  family  has  been  greatly  comforted  and 
blessed.  The  power  of  the  infidel  class  has  been  dimin- 
ished. I  have  myself  enjoyed  a  kind  and  a  degree  of  hap- 
piness that  I  never  enjoyed  while  the  slave  of  doubt  and 
unbelief.  And  it  is  a  great  consolation  to  think  that  I  was 
brought  to  God  while  in  my  health  and  strength,  and  that 
I  have  now  been  permitted  to  spend  from  eleven  to  twelve 
years  in  the  work  of  Christ.  Another  great  comfort  is, 
that  my  circumstances  are  such  as  to  enable  me  to  give 
some  proof  of  my  devotion  to  the  cause  of  Christ ;  of  my 
infinite  preference  of  the  religion  of  Christ,  both  to  the 
miserable  philosophy  of  unbelief,  and  to  the  wretched 
fictions  of  ignorant  or  anti-Christian  divines. 

23.  I  read  quite  a  nmltitude  of  books  on  ray  way  back  to 
Christ,  and  if  I  had  time,  I  would  give  some  account  of  the 


BOOKS  THAT  PROVED  OF  USE  TO  ME.      397 

influence  which  some  of  them  made  on  my  mind.  But  I 
have  not.  It  may  seem  strange,  but  I  had  sunk  below  the 
level  of  ancient  Paganism,  and  the  books  which  I  read  on 
my  first  awaking  to  a  consciousness  that  I  was  wrong,  were 
Pagan  works.  I  read  much  in  Plato  and  Aristotle,  Cicero 
and  Seneca,  for  a  time,  and  then  in  Plutarch,  M.  A.  Anto- 
nine,  and  Epictetus.  The  works  of  Epictetus,  with  the 
comments  of  Simplicius,  proved  exceedingly  profitable.  I 
then  read  the  writings  of  Theodore  Parker,  Dr.  Channing, 
and  some  of  the  works  of  Dr.  Priestley,  and  got  good  from 
all.  They  all  helped  to  inspire  me  with  a  horror  of  Athe- 
ism, and  to  strengthen  my  faith  in  God,  and  in  His  bound- 
less and  eternal  love.  I  next  read  a  number  of  my  own 
works,  beginning  with  those  that  were  somewhat  skeptical, 
and  reading  backwards,  to  those  which  were  Christian.  I 
then  read  freely  my  old  companions  and  favorites,  includ- 
ing Hooker,  Baxter,  and  Howe;  Jeremy  Taylor,  William 
Law,  and  Bishop  Butler.  I  read  Shakespeare  freely,  and 
Pope,  and  then  Thomson,  and  Goldsmith,  and  Young, 
and  Cowper,  and  Tennyson,  and  several  others  of  our 
poets.  Then  came  the  works  of  Carlyle,  Burke,  Penn, 
and  Wesley;  of  Robert  Hall,  and  Dr.  Cooke,  and 
Mr.  Newton ;  and  the  writings  of  Paley  and  Gro- 
tius.  I  also  read  Guizot's  History  of  Civilization,  and 
those  portions  of  Dr.  Henry's  Histoi^y  of  England  that  re- 
ferred to  the  Church  and  Christianity.  Still  later  I  read 
Augustine's  Confessions,  Montalembert's  Monks  of  the  West, 
and  everything  I  could  find  to  illustrate  the  history 
of  Christianity. 

I  was  delighted,  transported,  with  many  of  Wesley's 
hymns.  I  found  in  them  an  amount  of  truth,  and  beauty, 
and  richness  of  good  feeling,  I  had  never  found  in  them 
before.  I  read  many  of  the  hymns  of  Watts  with  great 
pleasure,  as  well  as  several  collections  of  hymns  and  poetry 
by  Roundell  Palmer  and  others.  I  also  read  the  writings 
of  Chalmers,  Whewell,  and  Lord  Brougham  on  natural 
theology,  and  the  works  of  several  other  authors  on  that 
subject. 

At  a  later  period  I  read  something  in  Neander,  Lange, 
and  others  on  the  life  of  Christ.  Still  later  I  read  Young's 
Christ  of  History,  with  Renan  and  Ecce  Homo.     Renan 


398  PREJUDICE  ENCOUNTERED. 

tried  me  very  much.  He  seemed  to  write  in  the  scoffing 
spirit  of  Voltaire,  and  I  laid  the  book  aside  before  I  got 
to  the  end.  Ucce  Homo  delighted  me  exceedingly.  I  read 
it  a  dozen  times.  I  studied  it,  and  it  did  me  a  great  deal 
of  good.  It  both  strengthened  my  faith  in  Christ,  and  in- 
creased my  love  to  Him.  Still  later  I  read  Ecce  Deus  with 
jileasure  and  profit. 

The  book  however  that  did  me  most  good  was  the  Bible. 
r  came  to  it  continually,  as  to  an  overflowing  fountain,  and 
drank  of  its  waters  with  ever-increasing  delight. 

24.  I  began  to  preach  before  I  was  fit;  but  I  never 
might  have  been  fit,  if  I  had  not  begun.  I  became  fit  by 
working  while  unfit.  And  my  imperfect  labors  proved  a 
blessing  to  many. 

25.  There  was  much  prej  udice  against  me  at  first ;  but 
not  more  than  I  had  reason  to  expect ;  and  it  gradually 
gave  place  to  confidence  and  kind  feeling.  Some  said  I 
ought  to  remain  silent  a  few  years  ;  but  as  I  did  not  know 
what  a  few  years  or  even  a  few  days  might  bring  forth,  I 
thought  it  best  to  speak  at  onoe.  I  had  spoken  freely 
enough  on  the  wrong  side,  and  I  saw  no  reason  why  I 
should  not  speak  as  freely  and  at  once  on  the  right  side. 
Nor  do  I  regret  the  course  I  took.  It  was  the  best. 
Some  that  thought  otherwise  at  first,  think  as  I  do  now. 
For  instance,  when  Mr.  Everett  first  heard  that  some  of  his 
friends  had  invited  me  to  preach  for  them,  he  was  very 
angry,  and  said  I  ought  never  to  speak  or  show  my  face 
again  in  public  as  long  as  I  lived.  In  less  than  four  year?^ 
he  came  to  hear  me,  was  much  affected,  shook  me  by  the 
hand,  thanked  me,  invited  me  to  his  house,  showed  me  hit 
library,  and  his  museum  of  Methodist  antiquities  and  cu- 
riosities, offered  me  a  home  in  his  house,  and  was  as  kind 
to  me  as  a  father. 

I  never  quarrelled  with  people  for  regarding  me  with 
distrust  or  fear,  though  I  often  checked  my  over-zealous 
friends,  who  were  disposed  to  quarrel  with  all  who  did  not 
regard  me  with  the  same  amount  of  love  and  confidence  as 
themselves. 

I  have  never  defended  myself  against  slanderers,  either 
by  word  or  writing,  except  when  justice  to  my  friends  has 
seemed  to  require  it. 


WHO   TO   BLAME   FOR  ALL.  399 

I  have  never  complained  of  any  disadvantages  under 
which  I  have  labored.  It  is  right  that  a  man  who  has 
erred  as  I  have,  should  have  somethi»g  unpleasant  in  his 
lot  to  remind  him  of  his  error,  and  render  him  more  careful 
and  prayerful  for  the  time  to  come  :  and  there  is  to  me  a 
pleasure  in  doing  penance  for  my  faults. 

26.  I  have  never  thrown  the  whole  blame  of  my  errors 
on  others,  nor  have  I  ever  seen  reason  to  take  the  whole  to 
myself.  God  alone  is  able  to  distribute  praise  and  blame, 
rewards  and  punishments,  according  to  men's  deserts,  and 
to  Him  I  leave  the  task.  At  first  I  was  disposed  to  be 
very  severe  towards  myself:  but  two  years'  experience  in 
the  religious  body  that  I  first  joined,  of  a  kind  of  treatment 
resembling  that  of  my  early  days,  satisfied  me  that  I  ought 
to  judge  myself  a  little  more  leniently.  I  would  not  how- 
ever be  unduly  severe  towards  others.  I  cannot  tell, 
when  a  man  does  me  wrong,  how  far  he  may  be  under  the 
influence  of  unavoidable  error,  and  how  far  he  may  be 
under  the  influence  of  a  wicked  will.  I  may  be  able  to 
measure  the  injustice  gf  the  act,  but  not  the  wickedness 
of  the  actor.  God  alone  can  do  that.  A  man's  treatment 
of  me  may  satisfy  me  that  I  ought  not  to  place  myself  in 
his  power  ;  but  cannot  justify  me  in  saying  of  him  that  he 
deserves  the  damnation  of  hell.  The  rule  with  regard  to 
men's  deserts  is,  "  Judge  not,  that  ye  be  not  judged." 

27.  But  when  I  have  made  the  most  liberal  allow- 
ance for  myself,  and  even  while  I  feel  satisfied  that  in 
my  investigations  my  object  was  the  discovery  of  truth, 
and  that  my  errors  were  wholly  unintentional,  I  must  still 
feel  ashamed  and  mortified  at  the  thought  that  I  was  so 
weak  as  to  be  capable  of  such  grievous  errors.  Even 
when  I  take  into  account  the  imperfection  of  my  education, 
and  the  disadvantages  of  my  situation,  and  all  the  tempta- 
tions by  which  I  was  assailed,  I  am  still  ashamed  and  hum- 
bled, and  feel  that  my  place  is  in  the  dust.  But  if,  while 
prostrate,  God  says  to  me,  "  Arise !  "  shall  I  resist  the  call  ? 
Jf  in  the  exercise  of  His  love  He  restores  to  me  the  joys 
of  His  salvation,  and  bids  me  speak  and  labor  in  His 
cause,  shall  I  not  thankfully  obey  the  heavenly  voice? 
Shall  I  carry  my  humility  to  the  extreme  of  disobedience  ? 
Shall  I  not  rather  arise,  and,  with  a  cheerful  and  joyous 


400  MAKE  ALL   EIGHT   BY   LOVE. 

heart,  do  my  Saviour  what  service  I  can  ?  I  will  not  pre- 
sume to  usurp  the  prerogative  of  God,  even  to  judge  and 
punish  myself,  I  will  leave  myself  to  Him,  the  merciful 
and  all-knowing,  and  He  shall  do  with  me  what  He  sees 
best.  I  will  not  reject  His  mercy.  I  will  not  resist  His 
will.  Let  Him  do  what  seemeth  to  Him  good,  whether 
it  be  in  the  way  of  tenderness  or  of  severity.  It  has 
pleased  Him,  thus  far,  to  mingle  much  compassion  with 
His  chastisements,  and  His  goodness  calls  for  gratitude 
and  joy. 

28.  And  as  I  act  towards  God,  I  will  act  towards  His 
people.  If  they  frown  on  me,  I  will  take  it  patiently ;  but 
if  they  welcome  me  with  demonstrations  of  affection,  I 
will  rejoice.  If  they  close  their  pulpits  against  me,  I  will 
say,  "  Your  will  be  done."  If  they  open  them  to  me,  I 
will  enter,  and,  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  declare  the  coun- 
sel of  God.  A  portion  of  God's  people, — a  large  and  most 
worthy  portion — have  received  me  graciously ;  and  my 
duty  is,  and  my  endeavor,  I  trust,  will  be,  to  reciprocate 
their  love  and  confidence.     I  say  with  the  poet : — 

"  People  of  the  living  God, 

I  have  sought  the  world  around, 
Paths  of  doubt  and  sorrow  trod, 

Peace  and  comfort  nowhere  found ; 
Now  to  you  my  spirit  turns. 

Turns,  a  fugitive  unblest ; 
Brethren,  where  your  altar  burns 

O  receive  me  to  your  rest. 

"  Lonely  I  no  longer  roam, 

Like  the  cloud,  the  wind,  the  wave; 
Where  you  dwell  shall  be  my  home. 

Where  you  die  shall  be  my  grave ; 
Mine  the  God  whom  you  adore. 

Your  Redeemer  shall  be  mine ; 
Earth  can  fill  my  heart  no  more. 

All  my  joys  shall  be  divine." 

29.  It  seems  strange  that  I  should  have  been  permitted 
to  wander  into  doubt  and  unbelief,  and  live  so  long  under 


LIFE   HAS   STRAJS'GE   MYSTERIES.  401 

its  darkness  and  horrors.     There  is  a  mystery  about  it  that 
I  cannot  understand.     But  what  I  know  not  now,  I  may 
know  hereafter.     Tlie  mystery  of  Job^  trial  was  explained 
when  his  afflictions  were  at  an  end.     The  mystery  of  my 
strange  trial  is  still   w^-apt  up  in  darkness.     True,  my 
strange  experience  has  not  been  an  unmixed  calamity.     It 
has  brought  me  advantages  which  I  could  not  otherwise 
have  enjoyed.     I  know, things  which  I  never  could  have 
known,  if  I  had  always  remained  within  the  enclosures 
of  the  Church,  and  under  the  influence  of   Christianity. 
And  my  heart  is  more  subdued  to  the  will  of  God.     I  am 
more  at  one  with  Him  than  I  ever  was  before.     I  love 
Him  more.     I  love  Jesus  more.    I  love  His  religion  more. 
I  have  a  clearer  view  and  a  fuller  knowledge  of  its  infinite 
worth.     I  have,  of  course,  a  fuller  knowledge  of  the  hor- 
rors of  infidelity.     And  ray  faith  in  God  and  Christianity 
rests  on  a  firmer  foundation  than  it  did  in  my  early  days. 
Many  things   which   I   once   only   believed,  I  now   know. 
Many  things  for  which  I  had  formerly  only  the  testimony 
of  others,  I  now  know  to  be  true  by  my  own  experience. 
There  are  quite  a  multitude  of  things  on  which  I  have 
greater  certainty,  and  on  which  I  can,  in  consequence,  speak 
with  more  authority  than  in  my  early  days.     There  are, 
too,  cases  of  doubt  which  I  can  meet,  which  formerly  I 
could  not  have  met.     I  can    make  more  allowances  too, 
than  formerly,  for  those  who  are  troubled  with  doubt,  or 
ensnared  by  error.     And  my  preaching,  in  some  cases,  is 
more  powerful.     And  I  am  more  free  from  bigotry  and 
intolerance.     While  I  see  more  to  love  and  admire  in  the 
Church  generally,  I  love  all  hard-working  churches  with- 
out partiality.     I  think  less  of  the  points  on  which  they 
differ,  and  more  of  the  points  on  which  they  agree.     They 
appear    to    me   more    as   one    church.     There   are   many 
points  on  which  I  might  once  have  engaged  in  controversy, 
which  now  appear  of  little  or  no  moment.     While  I  have 
more  zeal  for  God,  I  have  more  charity  for  men. 

There  are  many  things  in  Wesley's  hymns,  and  many 
things  in  other  hymns,  which  formerly  I  did  not  under- 
stand or  appreciate,  or  understood  and  appreciated  but  very 
imperfectly,  which  now  I  understand  more  perfectly,  and 
prize  more  highly.  And  so  with  many  things  in  the  Bible, 
26 


402  EVIL  TUENED  TO  GOOD. 

30.  And  I  have,  at  times,  and  have  had  for  years, 
strange  glimpses  of  the  magnificence  and  wondrousness 
of  the  universe ;  startling  views  of  the  awful  grandeur  and 
movements  of  its  huge  orbs,  and  of  the  terrible  working 
of  its  great  forces,  and  an  overpowering  sight  and  sense 
gf  the  presence  and  power  of  the  living  God  in  all,  which 
I  never  had  in  my  earlier  days.  And  I  have  often  had, 
and  still  have,  at  times,  strange  feelings  of  the  fact  and 
mystery  of  existence :  of  my  own  existence,  and  of  the 
existence  of  other  beings,  and  of  God. 

31.  And  I  have,  at  times,  strange  feelings  with  regard 
to  the  infinite  value  of  life  and  consciousness,  and  of  my 
intellectual  and  moral  powers.  And  I  have  pleasant  and 
wonderful  thoughts  and  feelings  with  regard  to  the  lower 
animals,  as  the  creatures  of  God,  my  Father ;  and  as  mani- 
festations of  His  goodness,  and  wisdom,  and  power ;  and 
as  sharers  with  me  of  an  infinite  Father's  love.  And  I 
love  them  as  I  never  loved  theni  in  my  earlier  days.  I 
feel  happier  in  their  company.  I  listen  with  more  plea- 
sure to  the  songs  of  birds,  and  gaze  with  more  delight  on 
every  living  thing.  The  earth  and  its  inhabitants  are  new 
to  me.  The  plants  and  flowers  are  new.  The  universe  is 
new.  I  am  new  to  myself.  All  things  are  new.  It 
seems,  at  times,  as  if  the  new,  enlarged,  and  higher  life 
of  which  I  have  become  conscious  through  my  strange 
experience,  were  worth  the  fearful  ])rice  which  I  have  paid 
for  it. 

32.  But  then  again, I  think  of  the  time  I  spent  in  sin 
and  folly, — of  the  mischief  I  did  in  those  dark  days, — 
of  the  grief  I  caused  to  so  many  good  and  godly  souls, — 
of  the  sorrows  I  entailed  on  those  most  dear  to  me,  and 
of  the  terrible  disadvantages  under  which  I  labor,  and 
under  which  I  must  always  labor,  in  consequence  of  my 
unacconntable  errors,  and  I  am  confounded  and  dismayed. 
But  then,  on  the  other  hand,  I  am  reminded  that  I  did  not 
sin  wilfully, — that  I  did  not  err  purposely  or  wantonly, — 
that  what  I  did  amiss  I  did  in  ignorance, — that  I  verily 
believed  myself  in  the  way  of  duty  when  I  went  astray, — 
that  I  was  influenced  by  a  desire  to  know  the  truth, — that 
I  believed  myself,  at  the  outset,  bound  as  a  Christian,  and 
as  a  creature  of  God,  to  use  my  faculties  to  the  utmost  in 


MYSTERIES   ON   MYSTERIES.  403 

searching  the  Scriptures,  and  exploring  Nature,  in  pursuit 
of  truth,— tliat  when  I  advocated  infidel  views,  I  advo- 
cated theiu  believing  them  to  be  truef-and  believing  that 
truth  must  be  most  conducive  to  the  virtue  and  happiness 
of  mankind.  True,  appearances  were  against  me ;  but  I 
felt  myself  bound,  even  when  an  unbeliever,  to  "  walk  by 
iaith,'' — by  faith  in  priuci{)les  which  I  supposed  myself  to 
have  f  )und  to  be  true.  My  life,  even  in  my  worst  condi- 
^  tion,  was  a  life  of  self-sacrifice  for  what  I  regarded  as  eter- 
nal truth.  When  I  gave  up  my  belief  in  a  Fatherly  God, 
and  myfliith  in  a  blessed  immortality,  I  believed  myself  to 
be  making  a  sacrifice  at  the  shrine  of  truth.  I  thought  I 
heard  her  voice  from  the  infinite  universe  demanding  the 
surrender,  and  conscience  compelled  me  to  eomply  with 
the  demand.  I  felt  the  dreadful  nature  of  the  sacrifice, 
but  what  could  I  do  ? 

I  remember  the  words  I  uttered,  and  I  remember  the 
mingled  emotions  which  filled  and  agitated  my  soul,  on 
that  occasion.  I  was  distressed  at  the  terrible' necessity 
of  giving  up  the  cherished  idols  of  my  soul,  yet  I  was 
filled  for  a  moment  with  a  strange  delight  at  the  thought 
that  I  was  doing  my  duty  in  compliance  with  the  stern 
demands  of  eternal  law,  and  the  dread  realities  of  univer- 
sal being.  And  I  hoped  against  hope  that  the  result 
would  all  be  rio;ht. 

1  weep  when  I  read  the  strange  words  which  I  uttered 
on  that  dark  and  terrible  occasion.  I  said  to  myself, 
"  The  last  remains  of  my  religious  faith  are  gone.  The 
doctrines  of  a  personal  God,  and  of  a  future  life,  I  am  com- 
pelled to  regard  as  the  offspring,  not  of  the  understanding, 
but  of  the  imagination  and  affections.  It  is  no  easy  mat- 
ter to  wean  one's-self  from  flattering  and  long  cherished 
illusions.  It  is  no  easy  matter  to  believe  that  doctrines 
which  have  been  almost  universally  received,  and  which 
have  been  so  long  and  so  generally  regarded  as  essential  to 
the_  virtue  and  happiness  of  mankind — doctrines,  too, 
which  have  mingled  their  mighty  influences  with  so  much 
of^  the  beautiful  and  sublime  in  human  history,  and  which 
still,  to  so  many,  form  all  the  poetry  and  romance,  almost 
all  the  interest  and  grandeur  and  blessedness  of  human  life, 
have  no  foundation  in  truth.     To  persons  who  believe  in  a 


404  STRANGE  REVELATIONS. 

Fatherly  God,  and  in  human  immortality,  pure  natural- 
ism is  terribly  uninviting.  It  "was  always  so  to  me.  I  well 
remember  the  mingled  horror  and  pity  with  which,  when 
a  Christian,  I  regarded  the  man  who  had  no  personal  God, 
and  no  hope  of  a  future  life.  I  remember  too  how  I 
wrote  or  spoke  of  such.  I  mourned  over  them  as  the  most 
hapless  and  miserable  of  all  living  beings.  Yet  I  myself 
have  come  at  length,  by  slow  degrees,  after  a  thousand 
struggles,  and  with  infinite  reluctance,  to  the  dread  con- 
clusion, that  a  personal  God  and  an  immortal  life  are  fic- 
tions of  the  human  mind:  Yet  existence  has  not  quite  lost 
its  charms,  nor  life  its  enjoyments.  There  is  something 
infinitely  grand,  and  unspeakably  exciting  and  elevating 
in  the  consciousness  of  having  made  a  sacrifice  of  the  most 
popular  and  bewitching  of  all  illusions,  out  of  respect  to 
truth.  It  was  an  enviable  state  of  mi  ml  which  prompted 
the  grand  and  thrilling  exclamation,  "  Let  justice  be  done, 
though  the  heavens  should  fall."  And  that  state  of  mind 
is  no  less  enviable  which  can  sustain  a  man  in  the  sacrifice 
of  God  and  immortality  at  the  shrine  of  truth.  Such  a 
sacrifice,  accompanied,  as  it  must  be  in  the  present  state 
of  society,  with  a  thousand  other  sacrifices  of  reputation, 
friendships,  popular  pleasures,  and  social  favor,  is  an  ex- 
ercise of  the  highest  virtue,  a  demonstration  of  the  greatest 
magnanimity,  and  is  accompanied  or  followed  with  an  in- 
tensity of  satisfaction  which  none  but  the  martyr-spirit 
of  truth  can  conceive.  It  is  often  said  by  Christians, 
that  the  reason  why  persons  doubt  the  existence  of  God 
and  a  future  life  is,  that  they  have  good  cause  to  dread 
them  ;  or,  as  Grotius  expresses  it,  that  thoy  live  in  such  a 
way  that  it  would  be  to  their  interest  that  there  should  be 
no  God  or  future  life.  This  was  not  the  case  with  rae. 
My  unbelief  came  upon  me  while  I  was  diligently  striving 
in  all  things  to  do  God's  will.  My  virtue  outlived  my 
faith. 

"  Born  of  Methodist  parents,  and  reared  under  Christian 
influences,  and  a  Christian  myself,  and  even  a  Christian 
minister  for  many  years,  I  was  brought  slowly  and  reluc- 
tantly, in  spite  of  a  world  of  prejudices,  and  in  spite  of  in- 
terests and  associations  and  tastes  all  but  almighty  in 
their   influence,    to   the   conclusion,   that   pure,  unmixed 


FINISH   UP    WITH   HOLY   LOVE.  405 

Naturalism  alone  accorded  with  what  was  known  of  the 
present  state  and  the  past  history  of  theuuniverse.  I  say  I 
was  brought  to  these  conclusions  in  spite  of  a  world  of  op- 
posing influences.  While  a  Christian,  all  that  the  world 
could  promise  or  bestow  seemed  to  be  within  ray  reach. 
Friends,  popularity,  wealth,  power,  fame;  and  visions 
of  infinite  usefuhiess  to  others,  and  of  unbounded  happi- 
ness to  myself  in  the  future,  were  all  promised  me  as  tlie 
reward  of  continued  devotion  to  the  cause  of  God  and 
Christianity.  As  the  reward  of  heresy  and  unbelief,  I 
had  to  encounter  suspicion,  desertion,  hatred,  reproach, 
persecution,  want,  grief  of  friends  and  kindred,  anxious 
days  and  sleepless  nights,  and  almost  every  extreme 
of  mental  anguish.  Still,  inquiry  forced  me  into  heresy 
further  and  further  every  year,  and  brought  me  at  length 
to  the  extreme  of  doubt  and  unbelief." 

It  was,  then,  in  no  light  mood  that  I  gave  up  my  faith 
in  God,  and  Christ,  and  immortality.  The  change  in  my 
views  was  no  headlong,  hasty  freak.  It  was  the  result 
of  long  and  serious  thought — of  misguided,  but  honest, 
conscientious  study.  And  hence  I  have  sometimes  thought, 
and  am  still  inclined  to  think,  that  God  had  a  hand  in  the 
matter — that  He  led  me,  or  permitted  me  to  wander,  along 
that  strange  and  sorrowful  road,  and  to  pass  through  those 
dreary  and  dolorous  scenes,  and  drink  so  deej^ly  of  so  dread- 
ful a  cup  of  sorrow,  for  some  good  end.  "  He  maketh  the 
wrath  of  man  to  praise  Him,""  and  perhaps  he  may  turn 
our  errors  also  to  good  account.  I  am  not  disposed  to  be- 
lieve that  my  life  has  been  a  failure.  It  may,  for  anything 
I  know,  prove  to  have  been  a  great  success.  "  Men  are 
educated  largely  by  their  mistakes,"  says  one.  It  hardly 
seems  likely  that  God  would  suffer  a  well-intentioned, 
though  weak  and  erring  child,  to  ruin  either  himself  or 
others  for  ever.  God  is  good,  and  the  future  will  justify 
His  ways,  and  all  His  saints  shall  praise  Him. 

My  business  meanwhile  is,  to  do  what  I  can  to  promote 
the  interests  of  truth,  and  the  welfare  of  mankind.  I  must, 
so  far  as  possible,  redeem  lost  time.  I  have  a  thousand 
causes  for  gratitude,  and  none  for  complaint.  I  am  very 
happy,  in  general ;  as  happy  as  I  desire  to  be,  and  as 
happy,  I  expect,  as  it  is  good  for  me  to  be.     I  sometimes 


406  LESSONS  I   HAVE  LEARNED. 

feel  as  if  I  were  too  happy.  And  I  certainly  never  ask 
God  to  make  me  more  happy.  I  ask  Him  to  make  me 
wiser,  and  better,  and  more  useful,  but  not  more  happy. 
At  times  my  cup  of  joy  runs  over.  It  is  strange  it  should 
be  so,  yet  so  it  is.  But  joy  and  sorrow  are  often  found  in 
company.  Paul  says  of  himself,  "Sorrowful,  yet  always 
rejoicing."  The  author  of  Ecee  Dens  says,  "  The  good 
man's  life  is  one  unbi'oken  repentance.  Throughout  his 
life  he  suffers  on  account  of  his  sins.  What,  then  of  joy  ?" 
he  asks :  and  he  answers,  "  It  is  contemporaneous  with 
sorrow.  They  are  inseparable.  The  joy  that  is  born  of 
sorrow  is  the  only  joy  that  is  enduring."  It  may  seem 
strange,  but  it  is  true,  the  last  year  of  my  life  has  been  the 
happiest  1  ever  experienced. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A   FEW   OF   THE   LESSONS  I  HAVE  LEARNED  ON  MY  WAY 
THROUGH   LIFE. 

And  now  for  a  few  of  the  lessons  which  I  have  learned 
on  my  way  through  life. 

1.  One,  alas  !  is,  that  it  is  very  difficult  to  bring  young 
people  to  benefit  by  the  experience  of  their  elders.  It 
would  be  a  happy  thing  if  we  could  put  old  men's  heads 
on  young  men's  shoulders ;  but  no  method  of  performing 
the  operation  has,  as  yet,  been  hit  upon.  It  might  an- 
swer as  well,  if  old  men  could  empty  their  heads  into  the 
heads  of  the  young.  But  this  is  a  task  almost  as  difficult 
as  the  former.  The  heads  of  the  young  are  generally  full 
of  foolish  thoughts,  and  vain  conceits,  and  wild  dreams 
of  what  they  are  to  be,  and  do,  and  enjoy  in  the  days  to 
come,  with  large  admixtures  at  times  of  more  objectionable 
materials ;  so  that  there  is  no  room  for  the  counsels  and 
admonitions  of  their  elders.  Then  there  are  some  who  do 
not  like  to  be  counselled  or  admonished.  Having  set  their 
minds  on  the  attainment  of  a  certain  object,  they  are  un- 
willing to  listen  to  any  but  such  as  commend-  their  course, 
and  encourage  them  with  promises  of  success.     There  are 


SELF-CONFIDENCE, — SELF-SECURITY.  407 

others  who  think  they  have  no  need  of  counsel  or  admoni- 
tion.    Counsel  and  admonition  are  proper  enough  for  some 
people,  but  they  are  not  required  in  theii^ase,  they  imagine. 
They  do  not  exactly  think  themselves  beings  of  a  superior 
order,  beyond  the  reach  of  ordinary  dangers ;  but  they  act 
as  if  they  thought  so.     In  words  they  would  acknowledge 
themselves  to  be  but  men,  liable  to  the  common  frailties 
of  their  race;  but  their  conduct  seems  to  say,  "It  is  im- 
possible we  should  ever  err  or  sin  as  some  men  do  :  we  are 
better  constructed,  and  are  born  to  a  happier  lot."     Their 
purpose  is  to  do  right,  and  it  never  enters  their  minds  that 
they  can  ever  do  wrong.     And  if  you  tell  them  that  they 
are  in  danger  of  becoming  intemperate,  or  skeptical,  or 
of  falling  into  any  great  error  or  sin,  they  feel  hurt,  and 
say,  ■"  Do  you  suppose  we  are  dogs  that  we  should  do  such 
things  ?  "    Dogs  or  not,  when  the  time  of  trial  comes,  they 
do  them.     And  then  they  discover,  that  men  are  not  al- 
ways so  wise,  so  good,  or  so  strong  as  they  suppose  them- 
selves; that   people   may  be   the   subjects  of  weaknesses 
of  which  they  are  utterly  unconscious,  till  assailed  by  some 
unlooked  for  temptation ;  and  they  mourn  at  the  last,  and 
say,  "  How  have  we  hated  instruction,  and  despised  the 
counsel  of  the  Holy  One."     And  now  they  see  that  the 
strongest  need  a  stronger  one  than  themselves  to  shield  • 
them,  and  that  the  wisest  need  a  wiser  one  than  themselves 
to  guide  them,  if  they  are  to  be  kept  from  harm. 

We  have  no  disposition  to  be  severe  with  such  persons 
for  we  belonged  to  the  same  unhappy  class  ourselves.  It 
never  once  entered  our  minds  in  our  earlier  days,  that  we  " 
could  ever  fall  away  from  Christ.  We  saw  that  others  were 
in  danger,  but  we  never  supposed  we  were  in  danger  our- 
selves. We  preached  from  the  text,  "  Let  him  that  think- 
eth  he  standeth,  take  heed  lest  he  fall,"  and  we  pressed  the 
solemn  warning  on  our  hearers  with  tlie  greatest  earnest- 
ness ;  but  we  never  applied  it  to  ourselves.  We  supposed 
ourselves  secure.  And  if  any  one  had  told  us  that  we 
should  one  day  cease  to  be  a  Christian,  and  above  all, 
if  any  man  had  said  that  we  should  fall  into  unbelief,  and 
be  ranked  with  the  opponents  of  Christianity,  we  should 
have  thought  him  insolent  or  mad.  Yet  we  know  what 
followed.     We  cannot  therefore  deal  harshly  with  our  too 


408  LOWLINESS   AND   FEAE   BEST. 

self-confident  brethren.  But  we  must  give  them  faithful 
warning.  Be  on  your  guard,  my  dear  young  friends.  You 
are  not  so  free  from  defects,  nor  so  far  from  danger,  as 
your  conscious  innocence,  or  the  great  deceiver,  may  in- 
sinuate. There  may  be  tendencies  to  evil  within  you,  and 
temptations  in  the  mysterious  world  around  you,  of  the 
character  and  force  of  which  you  have  no  conception.  It 
was  as  great  and  good  a  man  as  you  perhaps  that  said, 

"  Weaker  than  a  bruised  reed, 
Help  I  every  moment  need." 

And  he  was  wise  that  said, — 

"  Beware  of  Peter's  words, 

Nor  confidently  say, 
'  I  never  will  deny  thee.  Lord ; ' 
But,  '  Grant  I  never  may.' " 

There  are  devices  of  the  wicked  one  of  which  you  are  not 
yet  aware ;  "  depths  of  Satan "  which  you  have  not  yet 
fathomed ;  and  terrible  possibilities  of  which,  as  yet,  you 
have  never  dreamed.  I  say  again,  Be  on  your  guard.  "Be 
not  high-minded,  but  fear."  "  Blessed  is  the  man  that 
feareth  always."  None  are  so  weak  as  those  who  think 
themselves  strong.  None  are  in  such  danger  as  those  who 
think  themselves  secure. 

Man,  even  at  best,  is  not  so  great,  so  wise,  so  strong, 
as  some  are  prone  to  suppose:  and  when,  cut  oflP  from 
Christ  and  His  people,  from  the  Bible  and  prayer,  he  trusts 
in  his  own  resources,  he  is  poor,  and  weak,  and  frail  in  the 
extreme.  There  are  no  errors,  no  extravagances,  no  depths 
of  degradation,  into  which  the  lawless  self-reliant  man  may 
not  fall.  When  I  had  lost  my  faith  in  Christ,  and  had 
freed  myself  from  all  restraints  of  Bible  authority  and 
Church  discipline,  I  said  to  myself,  "  I  will  be  a  man  ;  all 
that  a  man  acting  freely,  giving  his  soul  full  scope,  tends 
naturally  to  become ;  and  I  will  be  nothing  else."  I  had 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  man  was  naturally  good — that, 
when  freely  and  fully  developed,  apart  from  the  authority 
of  religion,  churches  and  books,  he  would  become  the  per- 


THE  HIDDEN  DEPTHS  OF  MAN  S  NATUEE.    409 

fection  of  wisdom,  and  goodness,  and  happiness,  I  said  to 
myself,  "  Christ  was  but  a  man ;  and  the  reason  why  He 
so  much  excelled  all  other  men  was,  th«t  He  acted  freely, 
without  regard  to  the  traditions  of  the  elders,  the  law 
of  Moses,  or  any  authority  but  that  of  His  own  untrammelled 
mind.  I  will  follow  the  same  course.  I  will  free  my- 
self from  the  prejudices  of  my  education,  from  the  influence 
of  my  surroundings,  and  from  the  authority  of  all  existing 
laws  and  religions,  and  be  my  own  sole  ruler,  my  own  sole 
counsellor,  my  own  sole  guide.  I  will  act  with  regard  to 
the  religion  of  Christ,  as  Christ  acted  with  regard  to  the 
religion  of  Moses;  obey  it,  abolish  it,  or  modify  it,  as  its 
different  parts  may  require.  I  will  act  with  regard  to  the 
Church  authorities  of  my  time  as  Jesus  acted  with  regard 
to  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  of  His  day ;  I  will  set  them 
aside.  I  will  be  a  man;  a  free,  self-ruled,  and  self- 
developed  man." 

Alas,  I  little  knew  the  terrible  possibilities  of  the  nature 
of  man  when  left  to  itself.  I  had  no  conception  of  its  in- 
finite weakness  with  regard  to  what  is  good,  or  its  fearful 
capabilities  with  regard  to  what  is  bad.  I  had  no  idea 
of  the  infinite  amount  of  evil  that  lay  concealed  in  the 
human  heart,  ready,  when  unrepressed,  to  unfold  itself, 
and  take  all  horrible  forms  of  vice  and  folly.  1  indulged 
myself  in  my  mad  experiments  of  unlimited  freedom  till 
appalled  by  the  melancholy  results.  I  did  not  become  all 
that  unchecked  license  could  make  me ;  but  I  became  so 
different  a  creature  from  what  I  had  anticipated,  that  I 
saw  the  madness  of  my  resolution,  and  recoiled,  I  came 
to  the  verge  of  all  evil.  God  had  mercy  on  me  and  held 
me  back  in  spite  of  my  impiety,  or  I  should  have  become  a 
monster  of  iniquity.  Man  was  not  made  for  unlimited 
liberty.  He  was  made  for  subjection  to  the  Divine  will, 
and  for  obedience  to  Go.d's  law.  He  was  made  for  fellow- 
ship with  the  good  among  his  fellow-men,  and  for  submis- 
sion to  Christian  discipline.  He  can  become  good  and 
great  and  happy  only  by  faith  in  God  and  Christ,  by  self- 
denial,  by  good  society,  by  careful  moral  and  religious  cul- 
ture, and  by  constant  prayer  and  dependence  on  God.  I 
DOW  no  longer  say,  "  I  will  be  a  man  ;"  but,  "  Let  me  be 
a  Christian."     I  no  longer  say,  "  I  will  be  all  that  my  na- 


410  '  Satan's  devices. 

tare,  working  unchecked,  will  make  me  ;"  but,  "  Let  me 
be  all  that  Christ  and  Cliristianity  can  make  me.  Let  me 
check  all  tempers  at  variance  with  the  mind  of  Christ;  and 
all  tendencies  at  variance  with  His  precepts.  Let  the 
mouth  of  that  fearful  abyss  which  lies  deep  down  in  my 
nature  be  closed,  and  let  the  infernal  fires  that  smoulder 
there  be  utterly  smothered ;  and  let  the  love  of  God  and 
the  love  of  man  reign  in  me,  producing  a  life  of  Christ-like 
piety  and  beneficence.  Let  all  I  have  and  all  I  am  be  a 
sacrifice  to  God  in  Christ,  and  used  in  the  cause  of  truth 
and  righteousness  for  the  welfare  of  mankind." 

The  enemy  of  man  has  many  devices.     In  my  case,  as  in 
the  case  of  so  many  others,  he  transformed  himself  into 
"  an  angel   of  light."     He  did  not  say,  "  Give  up  your 
work  :  forsake  Christ ;  desert  His  Church ;  indulge  your 
appetites ;  give  yourself  to  selfish,  sensual  pleasure ;   free 
yourself  from  religious  restraint,  from  moral  control,  from 
scruples   of  conscience,  and    live   for   gain,    or   fiime,  or 
power."     On  the  contrary  ;  his  counsel  was,  "  I'erfect  your 
creed ;  perfect  your  knowledge ;  reform  the  Church ;  ex- 
pose its  corruptions  ;  reform  the   ministry  ;  expose  its  er- 
rors ;  go  back  to  the  simplicity  of  Christ ;  return  to  the 
order  of  the  ancient  Church  ;  pay  no  regard  to  prevailing 
sentiments,  or  to  established  customs  ;  begin  anew.     Re- 
solve  on  perfection ;  it  is   attainable  ;  be  content  with  no- 
thing  less.      Assert  your  rights.     Be   true.      Prove   all 
things  ;  hold  fast  to  what  is  good,  but  cast  away  whatever 
you  find  to  be  evil.     Call  no  one  master  but  Christ ;  and 
what  Christ  requires,  ask  no  one  but  yourself.     Be  true  to 
your  own  conscience.     God  has  called  you  to  restore  the 
Church  to  its  purity,  to'its  simplicity,  to  its  ancient  power. 
Be  faithful,  and  fear  no  opposition.    Free  inquiry  must  lead 
to  truth,  and  truth   is   infinitely  desirable.     Assail   error; 
assail  men's  inventions ;  spare  nothing  but  what  is  of  God. 
It  is  God's  own  work  you  are  doing;  it  is  the  world's  sal- 
vation for  which  you  are  laboring ;  and  God's  own  Spirit 
will  guide  you,  and  His  power  will  keep  3^ou  from  harm." 
All  this  was  true  ;  but  it  was  truth  without  the  needful  ac- 
companiment of  pious  caution.     It   was  true,  but  it  was 
truth  without  the  needful  amount  of  humility,  of  meekness, 
of  gentleness,  and  of  self-distrust.     It  was  truth,  but  it 


POOE  WEAK   MAN.      SAD     DISAPPOINTMENTS.       411 

was  truth  put  in  such  a  form  as  to  do  the  work  of  false- 
hood. It  was  an  appeal  to  pride,  to  self-conceit,  to  self- 
sufficiency.  It  was  truth  presented  in  such  a  shape,  as  to 
abate  the  sense  of  my  dependence  on  God  f"  as  to  make  me 
forgetful  of  my  own  imperfections  ;  as  to  exclude  from  my 
mind  all  thoughts  of  danger,  and  so  prepare  me  for  mis- 
takes, mishaps,  and  ultimately  ruin.  It  is  not  enough  to 
aim  at  good  objects :  we  must  be  humble ;  we  must  be  sen- 
sible that  our  sufficiency  is  of  God ;  we  must  be  conscious 
of  our  own  weakness,  of  our  own  imperfections,  and  of  our 
own  danger,  and  move  with  care,  and  watchfulness,  and 
prayer.  We  must  not  please  ourselves  with  thoughts  of 
the  wonders  we  will  achieve,  of  the  services  we  will  render 
to  the  world,  and  of  the  honor  we  shall  gain  ;  but  cherish 
the  feeling  that  God  is  all,  and  be  content  that  He  alone 
shall  be  glorified.  We  are  but  earthen  vessels  ;  the  excel- 
lency of  the  power  is  of  God. 

O  my  poor  souJ,  how  do  I  grieve  when  I  think  of  thy 
early  dreams,  and  of  thy  sad  awakening.  Like  Adam,  I 
lived  in  a  Paradise  of  bliss,  suspecting  no  evil,  and  dread- 
ing no  change.  I  had  been  trained  to  piety  from  my 
earliest  years.  The  Bible  was  my  delight.  Christ  'and 
Christianity  were  my  glory  and  joy.  The  Church  was  my 
home.  To  preach  the  Gospel,  to  defend  God's  cause,  and 
to  labor  for  the  salvation  of  the  world,  were  the  delight 
of  my  life.  I  was  successful.  I  was  popular.  I  had 
many  friends,  and  was  passionately  beloved.  Wherever  I 
went,  men  hailed  me  as  their  spiritual  father.  The  chapels 
in  which  I  preached  were  crowded  to  their  utmost  capacity, 
and  men  regarded  me  as  the  champion  of  Christianity. 
They  applauded  my  labors  in  its  behalf,  and  testified  their 
esteem  and  admiration  by  unmistakable  signs.  At  one 
time  I  might  have  applied  to  myself  the  words  of  Job, 
"When  the  ear  heard  me,  then  it  blessed  me;  and  when 
the  eye  saw  me,  it  gave  witness  to  me.  The  young  men 
saw  me,  and  gave  me  reverence ;  and  the  ao-ed  arose  and 
stood  up.  Unto  me  men  gave  ear,  and  v/aited;  and  kept 
silence  at  my  counsel.  They  waited  for  my  words  as  for 
the  showers ;  and  opened  their  mouths  as  for  the  latter  rain. 
I  chose  out  their  way,  and  sat  chief,  and  dwelt  as  a  king 
in  the  army,  as  one  that  comforteth  the  mourners."     And 


412  NO  SAFETY  BUT   IN  NEARNESS   TO  GOD. 

everything  seemed  to  foretell  a  continuance  of  my  happy 
lot.  My  prejudices  and  my  convictions,  my  tastes  and  my 
affections,  my  habits  and  my  inclinations,  my  interests  and 
my  family,  all  joined  to  bind  me  to  the  cause  of  Christ  by 
the  strongest  bonds.  And  I  seemed  as  secure  to  others  as 
to  myself.  Hence  I  looked  forward  to  a  life  of  ever- 
increasing  usefulness,  reflecting  credit  on  my  family  and 
friends,  and  conferring  blessings  on  mankind  at  large.  I 
revelled  in  hopes  of  a  reformed  Church,  and  a  regenerated 
world;  and,  passing  the  bounds  of  time,  my  spirit  exulted 
in  the  prospect  of  a  glorious  immortality.  Yet  "  when  I 
looked  for  good  then  evil  came ;  and  when  I  waited  for 
light  there  came  darkness."  I  fell  away.  My  happy 
thoughts,  my  joyous  hopes,  my  delightful  ])rospects,  all 
vanished.  I  underwent  a  most  melancholy  transformation. 
The  eyes  that  gazed  on  me  with  affectionate  rapture,  now 
stared  at  me  with  affright  and  terror ;  and  brave,  stout  men 
wept  over  me  like  children.  The  light  of  my  life  was 
extinguished.  My  dwelling  was  in  darkness.  "  I  was  a 
brother  to  dragons,  and  a  companion  to  owls."  And  there 
was  nothing  before  me  but  the  dreary  prospect  of  a  return 
to  nothingness.  And  can  you,  my  young  friends,  dream 
of  safety  with  facts  like  these  in  view?  Again,  I  say,  be 
on  your  guard.  An  easy,  dreamy  self-security  is  the 
extreme  of  madness.  Our  only  safety  is  in  watchfulness 
and  prayer.     Our  only  sufficiency  is  of  God. 

"  O,  never  suffer  me  to  sleep 

Secure  within  the  reach  of  hell ; 
But  still  my  watchful  spirit  keep 
In  lowly  awe  and  loving  zeal : 
And  bless  me  with  a  godly  fear, 
And  plant  that  guardian  angel  here." 

2.  The  second  lesson  I  would  name  is  this :  It  is  dan- 
gerous to  allow  bad  feeling  to  get  into  your  hearts  towards 
your  Christian  friends,  or  your  brother  ministers.  It  is 
espt^cially  dangerous  to  allow  it  to  remain  there.  It  works 
like  the  infection  of  the  plague.  Try  therefore  to  keep 
your  minds  in  a  calm  and  comfortable  state  towards  all  with 
whom  you  have  to  do.     Guard  against  rash  judgments  and 


TRY  TO   KEEP   ON   GOOD  TERMS  WITH   ALL.       413 

groundless  suspicions ;  or  you  may  take  offence  when  no 
offence  is  meant.  But  even  when  people  do  you  harm  on 
purpose,  it  is  best  to  be  forbearing.  W^iever  know  the 
force  of  temptation  under  which  men  act ;  or  the  mis- 
conceptions under  which  they  labor.  We  may  ourselves 
have  caused  their  misdoings  by  some  unconscious  error 
of  our  own.  It  is  well  to  suspect  ourselves  sometimes 
of  unknown  faults,  and  to  go  on  the  supposition  that 
what  appears  unkindness  in  others  towards  us,  may  be  the 
result  of  some  unguarded  word  or  inconsiderate  action  on 
our  part  towards  them.  2.  Keep  your  hearts  as  full  as 
possible  of  Christian  love.  The  more  abundant  your  love, 
the  less  will  be  your  liability  either  to  give  or  take  offence. 
3.  And  do  not  overrate  the  importance  of  men's  misconduct 
towards  you.  We  are  not  so  much  in  the  power  of  others 
as  we  are  prone  to  imagine.  The  world  is  governed  by 
God,  and  no  one  can  hurt  us  against  His  will.  Do  that 
which  is  right,  and  you  and  your  interests  are  secure,  bo 
take  things  comfortably.  And  try  to  overcome  evil  with 
good.  And  if  you  find  the  task  a  hard  one,  seek  help 
from  God. 

3.  Another  lesson  which  I  have  learned  on  my  way 
through  life  is,  that  it  is  dangerous  to  indulge  a  spirit 
of  con°troversv.  There  may  be  occasions  when  controversy 
is  a  duty  ;  but  it  is  best,  as  a  rule,  just  to  state  what  you  be- 
lieve to' be  the  truth,  and  leave  it  to  work  its  way  in  silence. 
If  people  oppose  it,  misrepresent  it,  or  ridicule  it,  then 
state  it  again  at  the  proper  time,  with  becoming  naeekness 
and  gentleness,  and  then  commit  it  to  the  care  of  its_  great 
Patron.  It  is  difficult  to  run  into  controversy  without 
falling  into  sin.  Men  need  to  be  very  wise  and  good  to 
be  able  to  go  through  a  controversy  honorably  and  use- 
fully ;  and  by  the  time  they  are  qualified  for  the  dangerous 
work'  they  prefer  more  peaceful  employment.  Controversy 
always  tends  to  produce  excess  of  warmth,  and  warmth 
of  a  dangerous  kind.  It  often  degenerates  into  a  quarrel, 
and  ends  in  shame.  Men  go  from  principles  to  personali- 
ties ;  and  instead  of  seeking  each  other's  instruction,  try 
only  to  humble  and  mortify  each  other.  They  begin  per- 
haps with  a  love  of  truth,  but  they  end  with  a  struggle  for 
victory.     They  try  to  deal  fairly  at  the  outset,  but  become 


414  OLD  PEEACHERS  SHOULD  BE  KIND  TO  YOUNG  ONES, 

unscrupulous  at  last,  and  say  or  do  anything  that  seems 
likely  to  harass  or  injure  their  opponents.  The  beginning 
of  strife  is  like  the  letting  out  of  water  from  a  reservoir ; 
there  is  first  a  drop,  then  a  trickle,  then  a  headlong  rush- 
ing torrent,  bearing  down  all  before  it,  and  sweeping  away 
men  and  their  works  to  destruction.  It  is  best,  therefore, 
to  take  the  advice  of  the  proverb,  and  "  leave  off  conten- 
tion before  it  be  meddled  with." 

4.  Another  lesson  that  I  have  learnt  on  my  way  through 
life  is,  that  ministers  should  deal  very  tenderly  with  their 
younger  brethren.  They  should  teach  them,  so  far  as  they 
are  able,  and  check  them  when  they  see  them  doing  any- 
thing really  wrong ;  but  they  should  never  interfere  need- 
lessly with  their  spiritual  freedom.  Young  men  of  mind 
and  conscience  loill  think.  They  will  test  their  creeds  by 
the  Sacred  Oracles,  and  endeavor  to  bring  them  into  har- 
mony with  the  teachings  of  Christ  and  His  A])ostles.  And 
it  is  right  they  should.  It  is  their  duty,  as  they  have 
opportunity,  to  "  prove  all  things."  And  few  young  men, 
of  any  considerable  powers,  can  compare  the  creeds  which 
they  receive  in  their  childhood  with  the  teachings  of  Sacred 
Scripture,  without  coming  to  the  conclusion,  that  on  some 
points  they  are  erroneous,  and  on  others  defective ;  that 
on  some  subjects  they  contain  too  much,  and  on  others  too 
little.  And  good  young  men  will  naturally  feel  disposed 
to  lay  aside  what  they  regard  as  erroneous,  and  to  accept 
what  presents  itself  to  their  minds  as  true.  In  some  cases 
they  will  make  mistakes.  The  only  men  that  never  think 
wrong,  are  those  who  never  think  at  all.  There  never 
was  a  child  born  into  the  world  that  learned  to  walk  with- 
out stumbling  occasionally,  and  at  times  even  falling  out- 
right. And  there  never  was  a  spiritual  child  that  learned 
to  travel  in  the  paths  of  religious  investigation,  without 
falling  at  times  into  error.  But  what  is  to  be  done  on  such 
occasions?  What  does  the  mother  do  when  her  baby 
falls?  Does  she  run  and  kick  tlie  poor  little  creature, 
and  say,  "  You  naughty,  dirty  tike,  if  ever  yon  try  to  walk 
again,  I  will  throw  you  into  the  gutter  ?  "  On  the  contrary, 
she  runs  and  catches  up  the  dear  little  thing;  and  if  it  has 
hurt  itself,  she  kisses  the  place  to  make  it  well,  and  says, 
"Try  again,  my  darling;    try  again."     And  it  does  try 


AS   NUESING   MOTHEES   TO   THEIR    CHILDREN.     415 

again :  and  in  course  of  time  it  learns  to  wailc  as  steadily 
as  its  mother;  and  when  she  begins  to  stagger  under  the 
inlirmities  of  age,  it  takes  her  hand,  aud  steadies  her 
goings. 

And  so  it  should  be  in  spiritual  matters.  When  a  good 
young  man  falls  into  error,  we  should  treat  him  with  the 
tenderness  and  affection  of  a  mother.  "  We  were  gentle 
among  you,"  says  Paul  to  the  Thessalonians,  "  even  as  a 
nurse  cherisheth  her  children."  And  this  is  the  example 
that  we  should  follow  towards  our  younger  brethren. 
AVhether  we  would  keep  them  from  erring,  or  bring  them 
back  when  they  go  astray,  we  should  treat  them  ten- 
derly. We  should  try  to  win  their  love  and  confidence. 
Men  can  often  be  led,  when  they  cannot  be  driven.  There 
are  numbers  who,  if  you  attempt  to  drive  them,  will  run 
the  contrary  way  ;  who,  if  you  treat  them  with  respect, 
and  show  them  that  you  love  them,  will  follow  you  where- 
ever  you  may  go. 

But  you  must  give  them  time.  They  cannot  always 
come  right  all  at  once.  When  a  fisherman  angles  for  large 
fish,  he  provides  himself  with  a  flexible,  elastic  rod,  and  a 
good  long  length  of  line ;  and  when  he  has  hooked  his 
prey,  he  gives  it  the  line  without  stint,  and  allows  it  to 
dart  to  and  fro,  and  plunge  and  flounder  at  pleasure,  till 
it  has  tired  itself  well,  and  then  he  brings  it  to  the 
bank  with  ease.  If  he  were  to  attempt  to  drag  the  fish 
to  the  shore  at  once,  by  main  force,  it  would  snap  his  rod, 
or  break  his  line,  and  get  away  into  the  deep ;  and  he 
would  lose  both  his  fish  and  his  tackle.  And  so  it  is  in 
the  world  of  mind.  When  we  have  to  do  with  vigorous 
and  active-minded  young  men,  we  must  allow  their  intel- 
lects a  little  play.  We  must  wait  till  they  begin  to  feel 
their  weakness.  We  must  place  a  little  confidence  in  them, 
and  give  them  a  chance  both  of  finding  out  their  deficien- 
cies, and  of  developing  their  strength. 

It  would  not  be  amiss  if  elder  preachers  could  go  on  the 
supposition  that  they  are  not  quite  perfect  or  infallible 
themselves, — that  it  is  possible  that  their  brethren  may 
discover  some  truth  in  Scripture,  that  has  not  yet  found 
its  way  into  their  creed ;  or  detect  some  error  in  their 
creed,  that  has  lurked  there  unsuspected  for  ages.     And 


416  YOUNG   THINKERS   MUST   BE   CArwEFUL. 

they  ought  to  be  willing  to  learn,  as  well  as  disposed  to 
teach. 

But  in  any  case,  if  our  studious  young  brethren  miss 
their  way  sometimes,  we  must  be  kind  and  gentle  towards 
them,  and  in  our  endeavors  to  save  them,  must  proceed 
with  care.  Deal  harshly  with  them,  and  you  drive  them 
into  heresy  or  unbelief.  Deal  gently  and  lovingly  with 
them,  and  you  bring  them  back  to  the  truth.  How 
often  the  disciples  of  Jesus  erred  with  regard  to  the 
nature  of  His  kingdom,  and  the  means  by  which  it  was  to 
be  established.  Yet  how  patiently  He  bore  with  them. 
And  in  this,  as  in  other  things.  He  has  left  us  an  example 
that  we  should  tread  in  His  steps.  The  sun  keeps  the 
planets  within  their  spheres,  and  even  brings  back  the 
comets  from  their  far-off  wanderings,  by  the  gentle  power 
of  attraction.  And  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  keeps  His 
spiritual  planets  in  their  orbits,  and  brings  from  the  black- 
ness of  darkness  the  stars  that  wander,  by  the  same  sweet 
power.  And  the  secondary  lights  of  the  world  must  keep 
their  satellites  in  their  orbits,  and  bring  back  to  their 
spheres  the  stars  that  fall  or  lose  their  way,  by  kindred 
influences.  The  mightiest  and  divinest  power  in  the  uni- 
verse is  LOVE. 

5.  And  now  comes  a  lesson  to  the  young  thinkers.  Sup- 
pose your  elder  brethren  should  treat  you  unkindly  ;  sup- 
pose they  should  discourage  your  search  after  truth,  and 
require  you  to  conform  your  creed  to  their  own  ideas,  and 
your  way  of  speaking  to  their  own  old  style  of  expression  ; 
suppose  that  they  should  look  with  suspicion  on  your  en- 
deavors to  come  nearer  to  the  truth,  and,  whenever  you 
give  utterance  to  a  thought  or  an  expression  at  variance 
with  their  own,  should  denounce  you  as  heretics,  and 
threaten  yon  with  excommunication,  what  should  you  do? 

We  answer,  go  quietly  on  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord.  Make 
no  complaint,  but  prepare  yourselves  for  expulsion.  When 
expelled,  go  quietly  to  some  Church  that  can  tolerate  your 
freedom,  and  work  there  in  peace  as  the  servants  of  Go<l. 
Cherish  no  resentment.  Commit  your  cause  to  God,  and, 
laboring  to  do  His  will,  leave  Him  to  choose  your  lot. 

Even  the  trials  that  come  from  the  ignorance  or  wicked- 
ness of  men,  are  of  God's  appointment.     We  are  taught 


TENDENCY   OF   UNBELIEF   EVER   DOWNWARDS,     417 

that  it  was  by  God's  ordination  that  Judas  betrayed  Chri.st ; 
that  God  employed  the  wickedness  of  the  ^traitor  for  tlie 
accomplishment  of  His  great  designs.  David  said,  refer- 
ring to  Shimei,  "  Let  him  curse,  for  God  hath  commanded 
him."  God  employed  the  wickedness  of  Shimei,  to  try 
and  punish  David.  Wesley  has  embodied  the  sentiment 
in  one  of  his  hymns,  as  follows : 

"  Lord,  I  adore  Thy  gracious  will ; 
Through  every  instrument  of  ill 

My  Father's  goodness  see : 
Accept  the  complicated  wrong 
Of  Shimei's  hand,  and  Shimei's  tongue. 

As  kind  rebukes  from  Thee." 

Joseph  said,  God  had  sent  him  down  to  Egypt  to  save 
many  souls  alive.  His  wicked  brethren  were  only  the  in- 
struments of  his  banishment.  They  meant  it  for  evil,  God 
turned  it  to  good.  And  so  in  your  case :  God  may  be 
using  the  ignorance  or  the  wickedness  of  your  persecutors 
to  separate  you  from  a- body  for  which  you  are  not  fitted, 
and  to  place  you  in  one  where  you  will  be  more  useful  and 
more  happy.  When  we  do  right,  God  will  make  the 
errors,  and  even  the  sins  of  our  enemies,  work  for  our 
good. 

6.  Another  lesson  which  I  have  thoroughly  learnt  is, 
that  though  men  may  become  unbelievers  through  other 
causes  than  vice,  they  cannot  continue  unbelievers  without 
spiritual  and  moral  loss.  The  inevitable  tendency  of  infi- 
delity is  to  debase  men's  souls.  And  here  I  speak  not  on 
the  testimony  of  others  merely,  but  from  extensive  obser- 
vation and  personal  experience.  I  have  known  numbers 
whom  infidelity  has  degraded,  but  none  whom  it  has  ele- 
vated. We  do  not  say  that  every  change  in  a  Christian's 
belief  is  demoralizing.  Disbelief  in  error,  resulting  from 
increase  of  knowledge,  may  improve  his  character  ;  but  the 
loss  of  faith  in  Christ,  and  God,  and  immortality,  can  never 
do  otherwise  than  strengthen  a  man's  tendencies  to  vice, 
and  weaken  his  inclinations  towards  virtue.  When  infi- 
dels say  that  their  unbelief  has  made  them  more  virtuous, 
they  attach  different  ideas  to  the  word  virtuous  from  those 
27 


418     TO   WHAT   IS    EARTHLY,   SENSUAL,   DEVILISH. 

which  Christians  attach  to  it.  They  call  evil  good,  and 
good  evil.  The  secularists  call  fornication  and  adultery 
virtue.  But  this  is  fraud.  That  infidelity  is  unfavorable 
to  what  men  generally  call  virtue,  and  friendly  to  wluit 
men  generally  call  vice,  infidels  themselves  know.  Their 
passions  and  prejudices  may  make  them  doubt  the  bad  in- 
fluence of  their  unbelief  for  a  time,  but  not  long.  I  my- 
self questioned  the  downward  tendency  of  infidelity  in  my 
own  case  for  a  time,  but  facts  proved  too  strong  for  me  in 
the  end.  My  friends  could  see  a  deterioration  both  in  my 
temper  and  conduct.  And  there  was  a  falling  off  in  my  zeal 
and  labors  for  the  good  of  mankind  from  the  first.  There 
was  a  falling  off  even  in  my  talents.  There  was  a  greater 
tendency  to  self-indulgence.  It  was  owing  to  the  still 
lingering  influence  of  my  early  faith,  and  of  my  early 
Christian  tastes  and  habits,  that  I  was  no  worse.  The 
virtue  which  I  retained  I  owed  to  the  religion  on  Avhich  I 
had  unhappily  turned  my  back.  When  unbelievers  are 
moral,  they  are  so,  not  in  consequence,  but  in  spite  of  their 
unbelief.  When  Christian  believers  are  bad,  they  are  so, 
not  in  consequence,  but  in  spite  of  th^ir  religion.  Infidelity 
tends  to  destroy  conscience.  It  annihilates  the  great  mo- 
tives to  virtue.  It  strengthens  the  selfisii  and  weakens  the 
benevolent  affections  and  tendencies  of  our  nature,  and 
smoothes  the  road  to  utter  depravity.  The  farther  men 
wander  from  Christ,  and  the  longer  they  remain  away,  the 
nearer  they  approach  to  utter  degeneracy. 

It  seldom  happens  that  men  who  have  lived  long  under 
the  influence  of  Christianity,  become  grossly  immoral  as 
soon  as  they  lose  their  faith  :  but  they  decline  in  virtue  from 
the  first,  and  utter  depravation  comes  in  time.  I  have  seen 
a  tree  growing  prostrate  on  the  ground,  %vhen  many  of  its 
roots  liad  been  torn  up  from  tlie  soil ;  but  it  grew  very 
poorly  ;  and  the  growth  it  made  was  owing  to  the  hold 
which  tlic  remainder  of  its  roots  still  had  on  the  soil.  The 
branch  that  is  cut  off  from  the  tree  may  retain  a  portion 
of  its  sap,  and  show  some  signs  of  langnishing  life  for 
weeks  ;  but  it  dies  at  length.  And  so  with  the  branches 
cut  off  from  the  spiritual  vine  ;  they  gradually  wither  and 
decay.  The  iron  taken  white  liot  from  the  furnace,  does 
not  get  cool  at  once  ;  but  it  gradually  comes  down  to  the 


INFIDELS   NOT   IRRECLAIMABLE.  419 

temperature  of  the  atmosphere  with  which  it  is  surrounded. 
The  prodigal  did  not  get  through  his  sh^-e  of  his  father's 
property  in  a  day,  but  he  found  himself  perishing  of  hunger 
at  length.  A  man  does  not  die  the  moment  he  ceases  to 
e*at,  but  he  loill  die  if  he  pa^sists  in  his  abstinence.  A  man 
may  live  in  an  unhealthy  district,  and  breathe  unwhole- 
some air  for  some  time,  without  apparent  injuiy  ;  but  dis- 
ease will  show  itself  in  the  end.  It  is  not  uncharitableness 
that  makes  us  speak  thus,  but  charity  itself.  It  is  de- 
sirable, that  both  believers  and  unbelievers  should  know 
the  truth  on  this  important  subject.  Infidelity  is  the  enemy 
of  all  virtue,  and  consequently  of  all  happiness ;  and  it  is 
necessary  that  this  should  be  generally  and  thoroughly 
known,  and  that  the  old-fashioned  prejudice  against  it 
should  be  allowed  to  keep  its  ground,  and  remain  as  strong 
as  ever.  And  Christians  must  show  their  charity  towards 
unbelievers,  not  by  abating  men's  horror  of  infidelity,  but 
by  endeavoring  to  deliver  them  from  its  deadly  power. 

7.  And  here  comes  another  lesson.  Do  not  suppose  that 
unbelievers  are  irreclaimable.  There  is  always  good 
ground  to  hope  for  the  conversion  of  those  unbelievers  who 
retain  a  respect  for  virtue,  if  they  are  properly  treated  ; 
and  even  those  who  are  sunk  in  vice  should  not  be  aban- 
doned in  despair.  Several  of  those  who  have  returned  to 
Christ  during  the  last  ten  years,  were  men  who  had  gone 
far  in  various  forms  of  wickedness.  And  many  of  those 
converts  from  infidelity  of  whom  we  read  in  old  religious 
books,  were  persons  of  immoral  character.  And  though 
habits  of  vice  are  not  easily  broken  off,  yet  the  miseries 
they  entail  on  men  may  rouse  them  to  more  vigorous  efforts 
for  their  deliverance.  And  it  sometimes  happens  that 
those  who  are  poor  in  promise,  are  rich  in  performance. 
You  remember  the  Saviour's  parable  of  the  two  sons. 
The  Father  said  to  the  first,  "Son,  go  work  to-day  in  mv 
vineyard."  And  he  answered  and  said,  "I  will  not,"  but 
afterwards  he  repented  and  went.  And  the  father  said  to 
the  second,  "  Go."  And  he  answered  and  said,  "  I  go, 
Sir,"  and  went  not.  And  this,  said  Christ,  is  what  takes 
place  between  Me  and  mankind.  I  say  to  the  fair-seeming 
people,  "  Give  yourselves  to  God  ;  "  and  they  answer, 
"  We  will,  Lord,"  but  still  live  on  in  selfishness  and  sin. 


f 

420  APPROACH  THEM  IN  LOVE. 

I  say  to  abandoned  profligates,  "  Give  yourselves  to  God ;" 
and  they  answer,  "  We  will  not ;  "  but  on  thinking  the 
matter  over,  they  repent  and  live  to  God.  Harlots  and 
publicans  enter  the  kingdom  of  God,  while  scribes  and 
pliarisees  remain  without.  The  oyster,  if  you  look  at  its 
outward  covering,  is  a  "  hard  case ;"  yet  within,  it  is  soft 
and  tender  in  the  extreme.  The  ugliest  caterpillar  is  but 
an  undeveloped  butterfly,  and  in  time,  if  placed  under 
favorable  influences,  may  leave  its  crawling,  and  mount 
aloft  on  wings  of  gold  and  silver.  And  it  often  happens 
that  the  worst  children  make  the  best  men.  The  fiercest 
persecutor  of  the  early  Church  became  the  chief  of  the 
Apostles.  He  was  honest  when  dragging  the  saints  to 
prison ;  and  all  that  was  wanted  to  make  him  a  preacher 
of  the  faith  which   he  labored  so  madly  to  destroy,  was 

LIGHT. 

And  so  it  is  still.  Some  of  the  most  unhappy  and  un- 
promising of  men  and  women  may  require  but  a  gentle 
word,  a  glimmer  of  light,  or  a  manifestation  of  your  kind 
concern  for  their  welfare,  to  win  their  hearts  to  God.  It 
does  not  appear  that  any  of  the  early  Christians  supposed 
that  there  \vas  anything  good  in  the  heart  of  Saul  the  per- 
secutor, and  nothing  is  said  of  any  attempt  on  their  part 
to  convince  him  of  his  error.  And  many,  even  when  they 
heard  he  was  converted,  could  not  believe  the  story.  And 
even  Ananias,  when  told  by  God  Himself  that  the  con- 
verted persecutor  was  praying,  could  not  get  over  his  fears 
and  suspicions  all  at  once.  When  God  said,  "  Go,  and 
help  the  poor  man,"  Ananias  answered,  "  Lord,  I  have 
heard  by  many  of  this  man,  iiow  much  evil  he  hath  done 
to  Thy  saints  at  Jerusalem."  But  the  Lord  said  unto  him, 
"  Go  thy  way,  haste  to  his  help,  for  he  is  a  chosen  vessel 
unto  Me,  to  bear  My  name  before  the  Gentiles,  and  to 
kings,  and  to  the  children  of  Israel.^'  At  last  Ananias 
went  his  way,  and  visited  the  praying  penitent.  But  even 
after  this,  when  Paul  had  been  preaching  for  some  time 
with  great  success,  and  had  made  the  greatest  sacrifices, 
and  braved  even  death  itself,  in  the  cause  of  Christ,  there 
were  numbers  who  doubted  his  sincerity.  "  When  he 
went  to  Jerusalem,  and  attempted  to  join  himself  to  the 
disciples,  they  were  all  afraid  of  him,  and  did  not  believe 


CONVEETED  INFIDELS  WILL  HAVE  TRIALS.       421 

that  he  ivas  a  disciple."  Barnabas  however,  good  man, 
took  him  by  the  hand,  and  succeeded  at  length  in  obtain- 
ing for  him,  to  some  exten^t,  the  advantages  of  Church  fel- 
lowship. 

Here  then  we  have  a  couple  of  lessons ;  the  first  is,  to 
seek  the  conversion  of  unbelievers  ;  the  second  is,  to  guard 
against  an  excess  of  skepticism  in  ourselves  with  regard  to 
the  sincerity  of  those  who  appear  to  be  converted.  It 
would  be  well  in  forming  our  judgments  of  persons  pro- 
fessing religion,  to  follow  the  rule  laid  down  by  Christ, 
"  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them.  A  good  tree  cannot 
bring  forth  bad  fruit,  nor  a  bad  tree  good  fruit."  If  men 
live  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly — if  they  make  great 
sacrifices,  and  incur  reproach  and  persecution  for  Christ, 
and  labor  zealously  in  His  cause,  it  is  no  great  stretch 
of  charity  to  go  on  the  supposition,  that  their  profession 
of  faith  in  God  and  Christ  is  sincere. 

8.  But  suppose  the  churches  should  treat  a  convert  from 
infidelity  as  the  church  at  Jerusalem  treated  Paul,  what 
should  he  do  ?  We  would  say.  Take  all  quietly,  and  go 
zealously  on  with  your  work.  You  are  the  servant  of  God, 
and  not  of  man  ;  and  you  must  not  desert  your  Master, 
because  a  number  of  His  servants  err  in  their  judgment  of 
you,  or  show,  in  their  conduct  towards  you,  a  lack  of 
charity.  Serve  your  Redeemer  all  the  more  faithfully. 
This  was  the  course  which  Paul  took.  He  "  increased  the 
more  in  strength ;"  and  he  abounded  the  more  in  labors. 
It  would  be  a  poor  excuse  for  the  neglect  of  your  duty  to 
God  and  Christ,  to  yourselves  and  your  fellow  creatures,  to 
say,  "  The  churches  did  not  treat  us  as  kindly  as  they 
ouglit ;  they  doubted  our  sincerity."  Such  conduct  would 
not  only  be  exceedingly  wicked,  but  extremely  foolish.  It 
would  be  the  surest  way  to  confirm  the  doubts  of  tlie 
churches,  and  make  them  feel,  that  in  treating  you  coldly, 
they  had  acted  wisely.  The  surest  way  to  gain  the  confi- 
dence of  the  Church,  is  not  to  care  too  much  about  it.  If 
you  show  that  you  are  satisfied  with  the  favor  of  God,  and 
with  your  own  sweet  consciousness  of  the  happy  change 
you  have  experienced,  everything  else  will  come  in  its  sea- 
son. Goodness  will  draw  after  it  the  reputation  of  good- 
ness.   The  shadow  will  follow  the  substance.    And  whether 


422  WE  MUST  ALL   HAVE   OUR  TROUBLES. 

it  does  or  not,  your  duty  is  to  be  resigned  and  cheerful.  A 
man  that  has  really  been  converted  from  infidelity  to 
Christianity,  will  be  so  happy,  and  will  feel  so  thankful 
for  the  blessed  change,  if  he  appreciates  it  as  he  ought,  that 
he  will  hardly  care  whether  he  has  the  favor  and  confidence 
of  his  brethren  or  not.  There  is  no  intimation  that  the 
returned  Prodigal  looked  black  at  his  father,  and  threatened 
to  go  back  again  into  the  far  country,  because  his  elder 
brother  refused  to  join  in  his  welcome  home.  The  proba- 
bility is,  that  he  felt  so  ashamed  of  his  sin  and  folly,  so 
overpowered  with  the  tenderness  of  his  father,  and  so  happy 
to  find  himself  at  home  again,  that  he  never  inquired 
whether  other  people  were  satisfied  or  not.  The  father  no- 
ticed the  unhappiness  of  his  elder  son,  and  sought  to  soothe 
and  comfort  him  ;  but  the  younger  son  was  occupied  with 
other  thoughts  ;  and  having  suffered  long  the  grievous 
pangs  of  hunger,  he  would,  for  a  time  at  least,  be  busy  at 
the  table,  speculating  in  raptures,  it  may  be,  on  the  differ- 
ence between  the  flesh  of  "  the  fatted  calf,"  and  "  the  husks 
that  the  swine  did  eat." 

It  is,  in  one  respect,  an  advantage  to  the  converted  un- 
believer to  be  treated  by  the  Church  with  shyness.  It  af- 
fords him  an  opportunity  of  proving  his  attachment  to 
Christ  and  Christianity,  in  a  way  in  which  he  could  not 
prove  it,  if  every  one  welcomed  him  with  demonstrations 
of  affection,  and  signs  of  joy.  None  are  so  slow  to  be- 
lieve in  the  sincerity  of  a  converted  infidel  as  infidels  them- 
selves ;  and  to  be  able  to  give  to  his  old  associates  a  proof 
so  decisive  of  the  genuineness  of  his  change,  and  of  the 
value  he  puts  on  Christianity,  will  be  regarded  by  the  con- 
vert r.s  a  privilege  of  no  light  value.  And  it  is  fit  and 
proper,  as  well  as  better  for  the  convert,  that  he  should  be 
reminded  of  his  former  weakness,  and  incited  to  watchful- 
ness and  humility,  by  the  pain  of  some  kind  of  life-long 
disadvantage. 

9.  Let  no  one  expect  to  get  through  the  world  without 
trouble.  The  thing  is  not  possible.  Nor  is  it  desirable. 
We  need  a  little  trouble  now  and  then  to  keep  us  awake  ; 
and  God  will  take  care  that  we  have  it.  We  had  better 
therefore  look  for  it,  and  when  it  comes,  bear  it  patiently. 
It  is  no  use  fretting  or  fuming ;  it  only  makes  things  worse. 


JOIN   THE  CHURCH.  423 

When  we  are  restless  under  little  troubles,  God  sends  us 
greater  ones  ;  and  if  our  impatience  continues,  he  sends  us 
greater  still.  And  there  is  no  remedy.  'An  eel  may  wrig- 
gle itself  "  out  of  the  frying-pan,  into  the  fire ;"  but  it  can- 
not wriggle  itself  back  again  out  of  the  fire,  even  into  the 
frying-pan.  And  so  it  is  with  us.  We  may  wriggle  our- 
selves out  of  one  little  trouble,  into  two  greater  ones  ;  but 
we  cannot  wriggle  ourselves  back  again  out  of  the  two 
greater  ones,  into  the  little  one.  The  longer  we  resist  the 
will  of  God,  the  worse  we  shall  fare.  We  had  better  there- 
fore bear  the  ills  we  have,  than  plunge  into  others  that  we 
know  not  of.-  It  is  best  to  submit  at  once.  If  we  were 
wise  we  should  say  with  the  Redeemer,  "  The  cup  that  My 
Father  giveth  me,  shall  I  not  drink  it?"  God  knows 
what  is  best  for  us,  and  He  will  never  inflict  on  us  a  pang 
which  He  does  not  see  to  be  necessary  to  our  usefulness 
and  welfare.  It  is  not  for  His  own  pleasure  that  He  af- 
flicts us,  but  for  our  profit,  that  we  may  be  partakers  of 
His  holiness. 

And  sorrow  is  the  seed  of  joy.  And  pain  adds  to  the 
sweetness  of  our  pleasures.  Hunger  sweetens  our  food,  and 
thirst  our  drink,  and  weariness  our  moments  of  rest ;  and 
"  our  light  afflictions,  which  are  but  for  a  moment,  work 
out  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of 
glory." 

We  are  quite  mistaken  when  we  look  at  our  trials  as 
unmixed  evils.  They  "  are  blessings  in  disguise."  The 
dripping  clouds  which  hide  the  sun,  enrich  the  earth.  The 
difficulties  with  which  we  have  to  contend,  increase  our 
strength.  The  tail  of  the  kite,  which  seems  to  pull  it  down, 
helps  it  to  rise.  And  the  afflictions,  which  seem  to  press  us 
to  the  ground,  help  to  raise  us  to  heaven. 

Let  us  take  our  lot  with  meekness  then,  and  learn  in  all 
things  to  say  to  our  Heavenly  Father,  "  Thy  will  be  done." 

10.  Join  the  Church.  The  Church  is  an  institution 
of  Heaven,  and  connection  with  it  is  necessary  to  your 
spiritual  safety.  Some  think  they  can  stand  alone ;  but 
when  they  make  the  attempt,  they  fall.  No  one  can  stand, 
who  does  not  use  the  means  which  God  has  given  him  for 
his  support ;  and  one  of  those  means  is  fellowship  with  the 
Church.     Without  civil  society  men  gradually  sink  into 


424  WE  ALL  NEED  ITS  AID. 

barbarism ;  and  without  religious  society  Christians  sink 
into  earthliness  and  impiety. 

Some  of  the  sweetest  and  most  beautiful  of  our  flowering 
shrubs,  and  some  of  the  richest  of  our  fruit-bearing  trees, 
are  unable  to  raise  themselves  from  the  ground  without  the 
assistance  of  their  stronger  kindred.  This  is  the  case  with 
the  honeysuckle,  the  ivy,  and  the  grape  vine.  Left  to  them- 
selves on  the  open  plain,  they  sprawl  upon  the  ground, 
choked  with  the  grass,  and  cropped  and  trampled  on  by 
beasts,  until  at  length  they  perish.  But  placed  in  woods 
or  hedgeroAvs,  they  clasp  with  their  living  tendrils,  or  em- 
brace with  their  whole  bodies,  their  vigorous  neighbors, 
climb  to  the  light  and  sunshine  by  their  aid,  display  their 
blossoms,  and  bear  their  rich  delicious  fruit  in  full  perfec- 
tion. And  we  are  like  these  trees.  We  must  have  sup- 
port from  others,  or  perish. 

This  is  not  all.  Even  the  stoutest  and  strongest  trees, 
such  as  the  oak,  the  ash,  and  the  sycamore,. do  best  in  com- 
pany. Plant  those  trees  in  groves,  and  guard  them  from 
the  crushing  steps  and  greedy  maws  of  cattle,  and  they 
grow  up  tall,  and  straight,  and  smooth.  They  shield  each 
other  from  the  stormy  winds,  and  they  show  a  sort  of  silent 
emulation,  each  raising  its  head  as  high  as  possible,  to  catch 
the  freshest  air  and  the  fullest  streams  of  light.  But  plant 
one  of  those  trees  alone  in  the  open  field,  and  leave  it  un- 
fenced  and  unguarded,  and  the  probability  is,  it  will  perish. 
If  it  should  escape  destruction,  its  growth  will  be  retarded, 
and  its  form  will  be  disfigured.  It  will  have  neither  size 
nor  comeliness.  It  will  be  cropped  by  the  cattle,  and  bent 
and  twisted  by  the  winds ;  it  will  be  stunted  and  dwarfed, 
crooked  and  mis-shapen,  knotted  and  gnarled,  neither 
pleasant  to  the  eye,  nor  good  for  timber.  Not  one  in  a 
thousand  would  ever  become  a  tall,  a  straight,  and  a 
majestic  tree. 

Mr.  Darwin  says,  that  on  some  large  tracts  on  which, 
while  they  were  unenclosed  and  unprotected,  there  was  not 
a  tree  to  be  seen,  there  soon  appeared,  after  the  land  was 
enclosed  by  a  fence,  a  countless  multitude  of  fine  Scotch  firs. 
The  seeds  of  these  trees  had  been  sown  by  some  means,  and 
they  had  germinated,  and  the  embryo  trees  had  sprung  up ; 
but  the  cattle  had  cropped  the  tender  shoots,  or  crushed 


BEHAVE  YOURSELF  WELL.  425 

and  trampled  them  down,  and  not  one  had  been  able  to 
raise  its  head  above  the  grass  or  he^jther.  On  looking 
down  and  searching  carefully  among  the  heather,  he  found  in 
one  square  yard  of  ground,  no  fewer  than  thirty-two  small 
trees,  one  of  which  had  been  vainly  trying  to  raise  its  head 
above  the  heather  for  six  and  twenty  years.  After  this  tract 
■  of  land  had  been  enclosed  for  awhile,  it  was  covered  thick 
with  a  countless  multitude  of  fine  young  trees.  And  so  it 
is  with  Christians.  Leave  them  in  the  open  common  of  the 
world,  and  they  gradually  come  down  to  a  level  with  the 
tastes  and  manners  of  the  world.  Place  them  within  the 
guarded  enclosures  of  the  Church,  and  they  rise  to  the  dig- 
nity and  glory  of  saints.  "  He  that  walketh  with  wise  men 
shall  be  wise ;  but  a  companion  of  fools  shall  be  destroyed." 
Hence  "  the  Lord  added  to  the  Church  daily  such  as  should 
be  saved." 

When  you  get  into  the  Churcli,  stay  there  as  long  as  you 
honestly  can ;  and  honor  it  by  a  truly  Christian  life ;  and 
aid  it  by  your  labors ;  and  support  it  liberally  with  your 
money.  The  best  spent  money  in  the  world  is  that  which 
is  employed  in  promoting  the  spread  of  Christianity.  And 
try  to  live  in  peace  both  with  your  pastor  and  your  fellow- 
members.  Obey  the  rules.  Do  not  dream  of  unlimited 
liberty;  you  cannot  have  it;  and  it  would  do  you  no  good 
if  you  could,  but  harm.  And  unlimited  liberty  for  one, 
would  be  slavery  or  martyrdom  for  the  rest.  Judge  the 
Church  and  your  pastors  charitably,  as  you  wx)uld  like  to 
be  judged  yourself.  Expect  to  nud  imperfections  in  them, 
and  make  as  much  allowance  for  them  as  you  can,  that  they 
may  be  led  to  make  allowances  for  the  imperfections  they 
find  in  you.  Look  more  at  the  good  that  is  in  your 
brethren  than  at  the  evil ;  it  will  cause  you  to  love  them 
the  more,  and  make  you  feel  happier  in  their  company. 
If  any  of  them  be  overtaken  in  a  fault,  try  to  restore  them, 
in  the  spirit  of  meekness.  And  let  the  mishaps  of  your 
brethren  remind  you  that  you  too  are  exposed  to  tempta- 
tion. 

Calculate  on  meeting  with  trials  or  unpleasantnesses  in 
the  Church  occasionally ;  for  offences  are  sure  to  come. 
Churches  are  made  up  of  men,  and  men  are  full  of  imper- 
fections, so  that  misunderstandings,  and  even  misdoings  at 


426  BEAR  VITH  UNPLEASANTNESSES. 

times,  are  inevitable.  You  may  be  misjudged  or  under- 
valued. There  will  be  differences  of  tastes  and  opinions, 
and  even  clashings  of  interest,  between  you  and  your  breth- 
ren. And  trials  may  come  from  quarters  from  which  you 
could  never  have  expected  them,  and  of  a  kind  that  you 
could  not  possibly  anticipate.  But  make  up  your  minds, 
by  the  help  of.  God,  to  bear  all  patiently.  Remember 
how  God  has  borne  with  you;  and  consider  what  Jesus 
suffered  from  the  weaknesses, 'the  errors,  and  the  sins 
of  men ;  and  how  meekly  and  patiently  He  endured. 

And  understand  that  others  may  have  to  bear  with  as 
many  unpleasantnesses  from  you,  as  you  have  to  bear  with 
from  them.  You  may  misunderstand  or  undervalue  others, 
as  much  as  they  misunderstand  or  undervalue  you.  And 
others  may  be  as  much  disappointed  in  you,  as  you  are  in 
them.  And  you  may  try  their  patience,  as  much  as  they 
try  yours.  We  know  when  we  are  hurt  by  others,  but  we 
do  not  always  know  when  others  are  hurt  by  us.  And  we 
can  see  the  defects  of  others,  when  we  cannot  see  our  own. 
And  we  should  consider,  that  they  will  know  when  they  are 
hurt  by  us,  when  they  may  not  know  that  we  are  hurt  by 
them;  and  that  they  will  be  able  to  see  our  imperfections, 
when  they  will  be  quite  unconscious  of  their  own.  And 
if  we  would  not  have  them  to  make  too  much  of  our  de- 
fects and  blunders,  we  must  not  make  too  much  of  theirs.  If 
they  can  bear  with  its,  we  must  learn  to  bear  with  them,  and 
think  ourselves  well  off  to  have  things  settled  so.  If  we 
could  see  ourselves  as  God  sees  us,  we  might  be  more  as- 
tonished that  others  should  be  able  to  bear  with  us,  than 
that  we  should  be  required  to  bear  with  them. 

And  the  trials  >vo  meet  Avith  in  the  Cliurch  will  do  us 
good,  if  we  look  at  them  in  a  proper  light,  and  receive 
them  in  a  proper  spirit.  They  will  reveal  to  us  the  defects 
of  our  brethren,  and  draw  us  to  labor  for  their  improve- 
ment. And  in  laboring  for  the  improvement  of  others,  we 
shall  improve  ourselves. 

And  the  unpleasant  friction  which  takes  place  betrv'ecn 
us  and  our  brethren,  will  only  tend  to  smoothe  the  rugged- 
ness  of  our  temper,  and  rub  off  the  unevennesscs  of  our 
character,  provided  we  can  keep  ourselves  from  impatience 
and  resentment.     In  going  along  the  course  of  a  brook  or 


TAKE  YOUR  RUBBING  ;   IT  MAY  DO  YOU  GOOD.      427 

a  river,  you  sometimes  come  upon  a  bend,  where  you  find 
a  heap  of  smooth  and  nicely  rounded  pebble  stones  thrown 
up.  Did  you  ever  ask  yourselves  how  these  pebbles  came 
to  be  so  round  and  smooth?  When  broken  ofif  from  their 
respective  rocks,  they  were  as  irregular  in  form,  they  had 
as  sharp  corners,  and  as  rough,  and  ragged,  and  jagged 
edges,  and  were  altogether  as  ugly  and  unsightly  things  as 
any  fragments  of  rocks  you  ever  looked  upon.  But  they 
got  into  the  water,  and  the  stream  rolled  them  along,  and 
rubbed  them  gently  one  against  another,  and  this  was  the 
way  they  came  to  be  so  round  and  smooth.  There  is  no 
doubt,  that  if  the  stones  could  have  talked,  and  if  they 
had  had  no  more  sense  than  we  have,  whenever  they  found 
that  their  neighbor  stones  were  rubbing  them,  they  would 
have  screamed  out,  "  Oh  !  how  you  scratch ;"  never  dream- 
ing that  they  were  scratching  the  other  stones  just  as  much 
at  the  same  time.  Bat  fortunately  the  stones  could  not 
talk ;  and  though  they  had  not  so  much  sense  as  we  have, 
they  had  less  nonsense,  and  that  served  them  as  well — so 
they  took  their  rubbing  quietly ;  and  hence  the  smoothness 
of  their  surface,  and  the  beauty  of  their  shape.  JSToav  here 
we  are,  living  stones  in  the  great  stream  of  time,  tumbled 
about  and  rubbed  one  against  another.  Let  us  take  our 
rubbing  patiently,  and  give  ourselves  a  chance  of  getting 
rid  of  our  unevennesscs,  and  of  being  brought  to  a  comely 
shape.  Have  patience,  my  friends.  The  trouble  will  not 
continue  long.  When  we  have  got  our  proper  shape,  God 
will  remove  us  to  our  proper  places  in  that  living  temple 
which  He  is  building  in  the  heavens,  and  our  rubbing  will 
be  at  an  end  for  ever. 

When  I  was  first  invited  by  the  Primitive  Methodists 
of  Tunstall  to  preach  in  their  chapel,  one  of  the  class- 
leaders  and  local  preachers  in  the  circuit  threw  up  his  plan, 
and  sent  in  his  class-book,  saying  he  would  not  belong  to 
a  society  that  would  allow  Joseph  Barker  to  preach  in 
their  pulj^its.  He  was  under  a  wrong  impression  with  re- 
gard to  my  views.  One  of  the  Tunstall  travelling  preach- 
ers went  to  see  him,  and  told  him  that  he  was  laboring 
under  a  mistake,  and  advised  him  to  take  back  his  class- 
book  and  plan.  "  Come,"  said  he,  "  and  have  a  little  talk 
with  Mr.  Barker."     He  came,  and    found   he   had    been 


428  BE  WARY  IN  SEEKING  REFORMS. 

mistaken,  "  Forgive  me,"  said  he.  "  I  cannot/'  said  I ; 
"  you  have  committed  no  oifence.  I  will  save  my  pardons 
till  you  do  something  really  wicked."  "  Then  let  us  pray," 
said  he  ;  and  we  knelt  down,  and  prayed  for  one  another, 
and  we  all  felt  better.  He  came  that  night  to  hear  me 
lecture.  The  subject  was  The  Church.  I  spoke  of  the 
unpleasantnesses  with  which  we  sometimes  meet  from  our 
brethren,  and  while  exhorting  my  hearers  to  take  their 
trials  patiently,  I  used  the  illustration  I  have  given  here. 
The  old  man  sat  on  my  left  in  the  front  of  the  gallery,  and 
was  much  excited.  He  wept.  At  length,  unable  any 
longer  to  restrain  his  feelings,  he  cried  aloud,  "  Glory ; 
Hallelujah ;  I'll  stop  and  be  rubbed."  He  did  stop.  But 
he  had  not  much  more  rubbing  to  endure.  In  less  than 
twelve  months,  on  retiring  one  night  to  rest,  in  his  usual 
health,  he  passed  away  suddenly,  and  peacefully,  to  his 
rest  in  heaven.  Let  us  "  stop  and  be  rubbed."  Better  be 
rubbed  in  the  Church,  than  thrown  out  into  the  broad 
highway  of  the  world,  and  broken  with  the  strong  man's 
hammer. 

11.  And  now  with  regard  to  reform.  It  is  right  that 
we  should  be  reformers.  There  are  plenty  of  evils  both  in 
the  Church  and  the  State,  as  well  as  in  individuals,  and  it 
is  our  duty  to  do  what  we  can  to  abate  or  cure  them.  But 
there  is  a  right  and  a  wrong  way  of  going  about  the  busi- 
ness, and  if  we  would  avoid  doing  mischief  while  we  are 
trying  to  do  good,  we  must  proceed  with  care. 

Reformers  must  learn  to  wait  as  Avell  as  to  work.  You 
cannot  make  churches,  or  states,  or  even  individuals,  all 
that  you  would  like  them  to  be,  in  a  moment.  You  cannot 
make  yourselves  what  you  would  like  to  be  as  quickly  as  you 
would  wish.  If  you  are  like  a  man  that  I  know,  you  will 
find  the  improvement  of  your  own  habits,  and  tempers, 
and  manners,  a  task  for  life.  And  if  the  change  for  the 
better  is  so  slow  in  yourselves,  whom  you  have  in  your 
hands  continually,  and  with  whom  you  can  take  what 
liberties  you  please,  what  can  you  expect  it  to  be  in  others? 
It  is  the  law  of  God  that  things  shall  pass  from  bad  to 
good,  and  from  better  to  best,  by  slow  and  almost  imper- 
ceptible gradations. 

All  the  great  and  beneficent  operations  of  Nature  are 


TAKE  TIME.      BE   PATIENT.  429 

silent  and  slow.  JSTothing  starts  suddenly  into  being; 
nothing  arrives  instantly  at  perfection  ;  nothing  falls  in- 
stantly into  decay.  The  germination"  of  the  seed,  the 
growth  of  the  plant,  the  swelling  of  the  bud,  the  opening 
of  the  flower,  the  ripening  of  the  fruit,  are  all  the  results 
of  slow  and  silent  operations.  Still  slower  is  the  growth 
of  the  majestic  forest.  And  the  trees  of  greatest  worth, 
which  supply  us  with  our  choicest  and  most  durable  tim- 
ber, have  the  slowest  growth  of  all.  And  so  it  is  with 
things  that  live  and  move.  Their  growth  is  silent  as  the 
grave.  And  man,  the  highest  of  created  beings,  advances 
to  maturity  most  tardily  of  all.  Our  development  is  so 
gradual,  that  the  changes  we  undergo  from  day  to  day  are 
imperceptible.  And  the  development  of  our  minds  is  as 
gradual  as  the  growth  of  our  bodies.  We  gather  our 
knowledge  a  thought,  a  fact,  a  lesson  at  a  time.  We  form 
our  character,  a  line,  a  trace,  a  touch  a  day. 

Society  is  subject  to  the  same  law.  Churches  and  nations 
are  collections  of  individuals,  each  changing  slowly,  and 
must  therefore  themselves  change  more  slowly  still.  You 
cannot  force  the  growth  of  a  single  plant  or  animal  at 
pleasure ;  still  less  can  you  force  at  will  the  advancement 
or  improvement  of  society.  You  may  change  a  nation's 
laws  and  institutions  suddenly,  but  the  change  will  be 
of  no  service,  so  long  as  the  min'ds  of  the  people  remain 
unchanged. 

All  the  great  beneficent  changes  of  Nature  are  gradual. 
How  slowly  the  darkness  of  the  night  gives  place  to  the 
morning  dawn,  and  how  slowly  the  grey  dawn  of  the 
mornitig  brightens  into  noon!  How  slowly  the  cold 
of  winter  gives  place  to  the  warmth  of  spring  and  summer. 
How  slowly  the  seed  deposited  in  the  ground  springs  up, 
putting  forth  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  and  then  the  full 
ripe  corn  in  the  ear.  And  how  slowly  we  grow  up  from 
babyhood  to  manhood,  and  how  slowly  we  pass  on  from 
early  sprightly  manhood,  to  the  sobriety  and  wisdom 
of  age.  And  how  slowly  the  nations  advance  in  science,  in 
arts,  and  in  commerce ;  in  religion,  and  morals,  and  govern- 
ment. And  so  it  is  in  all  the  works  of  God.  Even  the 
startling  phenomena  presented  by  the  earth's  surface,  which 
earlier  philosophers  supposed   to   be  the  result  of  violent 


430  UNBELIEF    A   TEREIBLE   CALAMITY. 

and  sudden  convulsions,  are  now  regarded  as  the  result 
of  the  slow  and  ordinary  action  of  natural  powers.  Leisurely 
movement  is  the  eternal  and  universal  law.  And  it  is  no 
use  complaining  ;  you  cannot  alter  it.  You  cannot  make 
a  hen  hatch  her  eggs  in  less  than  three  weeks,  do  what  you 
will.  You  may  crack  the  shells,  thinking  to  let  the  chick- 
ens out  a  little  earlier;  but  you  let,  death  in,  and  the 
chickens  never  do  come  out  at  all.  "The  more  haste  the 
less  speed."  I  have  had  proof  of  this  more  than  once  in 
my  own  experience.  I  once  lived  in  a  house  terribly  in- 
fested with  rats,  and  I  wanted  to  get  rid  of  them  as  quick 
as  I  could,  for  they  were  a  great  nuisance.  But  I  was  in 
too  big  a  hurry  to  succeed.  One  night  I  heard  a  terrible 
splashing  in  the  water-tub  in  the  cellar.  "  That's  a  rat,"  said 
I,  "  I'll  dispatch  that,  anyhow  :"  and  I  took  the  lighted 
candle  and  poker,  and  hastened  into  the  cellar,  thinking  to 
kill  the  creature  at  once.  When  the  rat  saw  me  with 
candle  and  poker,  it  made  an  extra  spring,  completely 
cleared  the  edge  of  the  tub,  and  got  safe  away  into  its 
hole.  I  was  in  such  a  hurry  to  kill  it,  that  I  saved  its 
life.  When  I  got  to  it,  it  was  drowning  itself  as  nicely 
as  it  could  do ;  and  if  I  had  had  patience  to  wait,  it  would 
have  been  dead  in  ten  minutes.  But  because  I  Avould  not 
wait,  and  let  it  die  quietly,  it  would  not  die  at  all.  And 
it  may  be  living  now  for  anything  I  know,  and  may  have 
bred  a  hundred  other  rats  since  then,  and  all  bemuse  I 
would  not  give  it  time  to  die  in  peace.  There  are  rats 
everywhere  still.  There  are  rats  in  the  Church,  rats  in 
the  State  ;  rats  in  palaces,  and  rats  in  hovels.  There  are 
rats  of  desjiotism  and  tyranny,  rats  of  slavery  antf  war, 
rats  of  rebellion  and  anarchy.  There  are  rats  of  supersti- 
tion and  idolatry,  rats  of  heresy  and  infidelity,  rats  of  in- 
temperance and  licentiousness.  And  it  is  right  to  try  to 
kill  them  off.  But  we  had  better  go  to  work  carefully. 
We  cannot  put  things  right  in  an  instant.  And  when 
wicked  laws,  or  vicious  principles  have  received  their 
death  blow,  we  had  better  give  tij'em  time  to  die  in  quiet. 
Haste  and  imj)atience  may  spoil  all. 

12.  Though  unbelief  may  not  always  be  a  sin,  it  is  al- 
ways a  great  calamity.  As  we  have  said,  its  tendency  is 
always  to  immorality,    and    immorality  always    tends  to 


NOTHING   IS   RIGHT   TO   THE   INFIDEL,  431 

misery  and  death.  Byron  perished  in  his  prime,  and  his 
short  life  and  his  untimely  death  were  both  unhappy.  Un- 
believers are  seldom  happy  in  their  .domestic  relations. 
And  in  cutting  themselves  off  from  God,  they  reduce  the 
noblest  affections  of  their  souls  to  starvation.  They  have 
no  suitable  exercise  or  gratification  for  their  natural  in- 
stinctive gratitude,  their  reverence,  or  their  love.  They 
have  nothing  in  which  they  can  securely  trust.  Even  their 
family  and  social  affections  often  decline  and  die. 

Many  unbelievers  are  poor,  and  infidel  poverty  is  al- 
ways envious.  The  world  is  a  very  trying  one  to  unbe- 
believers :  hardly  anything  pleases  them ;  and  nothing 
pleases  them  long.  Rulers  do  not  please  them :  they  are 
despots  and  tyrants.  Their  fellow  subjects  do  not  please 
them :  they  are  cowardly  slaves.  Their  masters  do  not 
please  them :  they  are  extortioners.  Their  men  do  not 
please  them :  they  are  knaves.  The  rich  do  not  please 
them:  they  are  leeches,  caterpillars,  cormorants.  The  poor 
do  not  please  them  :  they  are  mean,  deceitful  and  dishonest. 
Religion  does  not  please  them  ;  it  is  superstition  :  and  phi- 
losophy does  not  please  them  ;  it  is  a  bore  and  a  sham. 
Priests  do  not  please  them ;  they  are  cheats  :  and  the  peo- 
ple do  not  please  them ;  they  are  dupes.  The  climates  do 
not  suit  them  :  they  are  too  hot,  or  too  cold  ;  too  damp,  or 
too  dry  ;  and  the  seasons  do  not  please  them — they  are 
always  uncertain,  and  seldom  right.  The  world  at  large 
disgusts  them  :  it  takes  the  part  of  their  enemies.  It  favors 
the  religious  classes,  and  mocks  and  tortures  the  infidel 
philosopher.  Their  bodies  are  not  right ;  they  are  always 
ailing)  and  threatening  to  give  way  :  and  their  minds  are 
not  right ;  they  are  never  contented  and  at  rest.  There  is 
nothing  right  in  the  present ;  and  there  is  nothing  pro- 
mising in  the  future.  They  think  themselves  the  wisest 
people  in  the  world,  yet  people  in  general  regard  them  as 
ibols;  and  they  themselves  can  see  that  their .  fancied  wis- 
dom does  not  prove  their  friend. 

They  can  give  no  explanation  of  the  mysteries  of  the 
universe.  They  cannot  account  for  the  facts  which  geology 
reveals  with  regard  to  the  natural  history  of  the  globe. 
They  cannot  account  for  the  mechanism  of  the  heavens,  or 
the  chemistry  of  the  earth.     They  cannot  account  for  life, 


432  AND   THERE   IS   NO   REMEDY. 

organization,  or  intelligence.  They  cannot  account  for 
instinct.  They  cannot  account  for  the  marks  of  design 
which  are  everywhere  visible  in  Nature,  nor  for  the  num- 
berless wonders  of  special  arrangement  and  adaptation 
manifest  in  her  works.  They  cannot  account  for  the  dif- 
ference between  man  and  the  lower  animals.  Animals 
can  indulge  themselves  freely  and  take  no  harm ;  man 
cannot  indulge  himself  freely  without  misery  and  ruin. 
Animals  can  be  happy  without  self-denial ;  man  cannot. 
Man  excels  in  the  gift  of  reason,  yet  commits  mistakes, 
and  perpetrates  crimes,  which  we  look  for  in  vain  among 
the  beasts  of  the  field.  Man,  with  a  thousand  times  more 
power  than  the  brutes,  and  with  immensely  greater  capa- 
cities and  opportunities  for  happiness,  is  frequently  the 
most  miserable  being  on  earth.  On  the  supposition  that 
man  was  made  for  a  different  end,  and  endowed  with  a 
different  nature  from  the  brutes — on  the  supposition  that 
man  was  made  for  virtue,  for  piety,  for  rational,  religious 
self-government,  for  voluntary  obedience  to  God,  for  the 
joy  of  a  good  conscience,  for  heaven — in  a  word,  on  the 
supposition  that  the  Scriptural  and  Christian  doctrine  about 
man  is  true,  all  this  is  explained ;  but  on  the  infidel  theory 
all  is  a  torturing,  maddening  mystery. 

And  let  infidels  do  what  they  will,  and  say  what 
they  please,  the  world  at  large  will  hold  to  the  religious 
theory.  Mahometans,  Pagans,  and  Christians  all  insist 
that  man  is  made  for  higher  work,  and  meant  for  a  higher 
destiny,  than  the  lower  animals.  The  Christian  theory  is 
accepted  by  the  highest  of  our  race.  They  regard  it  with 
the  deepest  reverence.  The  books  that  unfold  it  they 
regard  as  divine.  They  read  them  in  their  families. 
They  read  them  in  their  temples.  They  teach  them  in 
their  schools.  They  publish  them  in  every  language: 
they  send  them  round  the  globe.  In  England  and  America, 
the  first  of  the  nations,  you  sec  them  everywhere.  You 
meet  with  them  in  hotels,  in  boarding-houses,  at  railway 
stations,  and  on  steam  packets ;  in  asylums  and  infirm- 
aries ;  in  barracks  and  in  prisons  ;  in  poor-houses  and  in 
palaces ;  in  the  drawing-rooms  of  the  wealthy,  and  in  the 
hovels  of  the  poor.  The  greatest  scholars  and  rarest  ge- 
niuses devote  their  lives  to  the  diffusion  of  their  doctrines; 


A  LOOK  AT  JESUS.  433 

and  there  is  no  probability  of  a  change.  If  Christianity- 
be  false,  the  world  is  mad  :  if  it  be  true,  the  case  of  the 
infidel  is  deplorable  in  the  extreme.     •^' 

And  that  many  portions  of  the  Christian  system  are 
true,  is  past  doubt.  They  carry  the  evidence  of  their  truth 
on  their  very  face.  And  other  portions  admit  of  easy 
proof.  The  truth  of  many  Christian  doctrines  can  be 
proved  by  experience.  And  the  rest  are  j^robable  enough. 
There  is  nothing  absurd,  nothing  irrational  in  Christianity. 
The  teachings  of  Christ  are  the  perfection  of  goodness. 
They  are  the  perfection  of  wisdom  and  beauty.  Even 
Goethe  could  say,  "  The  human  race  can  never  attain  to 
anything  higher  than  Christianity,  as  presented  in  the  life 
and  teachings  of  its  Founder."  And  again  he  says,  "  How 
much  soever  spiritual  culture  may  advance,  the  natural 
sciences  broaden  and  deepen,  and  the  human  mind  en- 
large, the  world  will  never  get  beyond  the  loftiness  and 
moral  culture  of  Christianity  as  it  shines  and  glistens  in 
the  Gos\)e\^."-T—Farhenlehre,  iii.  37. 

And  nothing  can  be  more  true. 

Look  for  a  few  moments  at  Christ  and  Christianity. 

And,  first,  what  is  Christ  as  presented  in  the  Gospels? 

1.  He  is,  first,  holy,  harmless,  undefiled  ;  a  lamb  with- 
out blemish  and  without  spot.  This  is  the  lowest  trait  in 
His  character.  Yet  it  is  a  great  thing  for  any  one  to  re- 
main innocent  in  a  world  like  this,  with  a  nature  like 
ours. 

2.  But  He  was,  second,  an  example  of  the  highest  moral 
and  spiritual  excellence.  He  was  devout,  ]>ious,  resigned, 
towards  His  Heavenly  Father.  He  was  full  of  benevo- 
lence towards  men.  He  did  good.  The  happiness  of  man- 
kind was  the  end,  and  doing  good  the  business,  of  His 
life.  He  had  no  other  object.  He  paid  no  regard  to 
wealth,  to  power,  to  pleasure,  or  to  fame.  He  was  so  fixed 
and  single  in  His  aim,  that  there  is  no  room  for  mistake. 
To  do  good,  to  bless  mankind,  was  His  meat  and  drink. 

3.  And  He  did  good  to  men's  bodies  as  well  as  to  their 
souls.  While  He  taught  the  ignorant,  and  reformed  the 
bad,  and  comforted  the  penitent.  He  healed  the  sick,  gave 
siglit  to  the  blind,  hearing  to  the  deaf,  bread  to  the  hungry, 
and  life  to  the  dead. 

28 


434     THE  PERFECTION  OF  MORAL  BEAUTY. 

4.  He  enjoined  the  same  way  of  life  on  His  disciples. 
"  Freely  ye  have  received,"  said  He,  "  freely  give." 

5.  While  He  lived  and  labored  for  the  good  of  all,  He 
paid  special  attention  to  the  poor. 

6.  Yet  He  never  flattered  the  poor,  nor  pandered  to  their 
}>rejndices  or  passions.  He  never  taught  them  to  envy  the 
rich,  or  revile  the  great,  or  to  throw  the  blame  of  their 
sorrows  on  others. 

7.  While  kind  to  the  poor.  He  was  just  and  respectful 
to  the  rich.  His  conduct  to  Xicodemus,  to  Zaccheus,  to 
the  young  man  that  came  to  question  Him  about  the  way 
to  heaven,  and  to  the  Roman  centurion,  was  courteous 
and  comely  to  the  last  degree.  He  was  faithful,  but  not 
harsh. 

8.  He  was  good  to  all  classes.  He  loved  the  Jews,  yet 
He  was  just  and  kind  to  the  Samaritans,  to  the  Syro- 
phenician  woman,  and  to  the  Roman  soldier. 

9.  He  was  especially  kind  to  women,  even  to  the  fallen 
ones.  He  showed  none  of  that  indiiference  or  disdain  for 
woman  that  the  {)roud  barbarian  exhibits,  or  of  that  heart- 
less contempt  which  the  vicious  sensualist  manifests.  He 
rose  alike  above  the  selfish  passions  and  the  inveterate 
prejudices  of  his  age,  and  conferred  on  the  injured  sex 
the  blessings  of  freedom  and  dignity,  of  purity  and  bless- 
edness. 

10.  He  showed  the  tenderest  regard  to  children.  "He 
took  them  in  His  arms  and  blessed  them,"  and  said, 
"  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  Me,  and  forbid  them 
not,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

11.  He  was  kind  to  the  outcast.  He  was  a  friend 
of  publicans  and  sinners.  He  went  among  the  lowest,  the 
most  neglected,  the  most  desjiised,  the  most  hated  and 
dreaded  of  mankind,  and  labored  fjr  their  salvation.  The 
parables  of  the  Lost  Sheep,  and  of  the  Prodigal  Son,  speak 
volumes  in  His  praise. 

12.  He  was  always  gentle,  tolerant,  and  forgiving.  He 
refused  to  bring  down  fire  from  heaven  on  the  villagers 
that  had  slighte<l  Him,  saying,  "The  Son  of  Man  is  not 
come  to  destrov  men's  lives,  but  to  save  them."  He  com- 
mended the  virtue  of  Samaritan  heretics.  He  has  nothing 
harsh  even  for  the  infidel  Sadducee.     He  complies  with 


NO  BOU^'T)S   TO   HIS  WORTH.  435 

the  unreasonable  wishes  of  the  skeptical  Thomas.  He 
pardons  Peter.  lie  is  severe  with  the  Scribes  and  Phari- 
sees only,  who  made  void  the  law  of  ri«riiteousuess  by  their 
traditions,  and  took  the  key  of  knowledge,  and  used  it, 
not  to  open,  but  to  keep  shut  the  door  of  the  kingdom 
of  heaven. 

13.  As  a  reformer,  He  went  to  the  root  of  social  and 
politic^il  evils,  and  sought  the  reform  of  laws,  institutions, 
and  governments,  by  laboring  for  the  instruction  and  reno- 
vation of  individuals. 

14.  He  was  patient  as  well  as  disinterested.  Pie  was 
willing  to  sow,  and  let  others  reap ;  to  labor,  and  let  others 
enjoy  the  fruit*  of  his  labors. 

15.  He  formed  a  Churcli,  employing  the  social  instincts 
and  aifections  of  His  follower  as  a  means  of  perpetuating 
and  extending  His  beneficent  influence  in  the  world. 

16.  He  checkeil  the  impertinence,  and  sileuce<l  the 
vanity  of  captious  cavillers. 

17.  He  carried  the  truth  into  markets  and  sea-ports,  as 
well  as  taught  it  in  the  temple  and  in  the  synagogues. 

18.  He  had  the  eloquence  of  silence  as  well  as  of  speech. 

19.  He  could  sutfer  as  well  as  labor.  He  bore  re- 
proach and  insolence,  and  at  last  laid  down  His  life  for 
mankind. 

20.  He  could  make  allowances  even  for  His  murderers. 
When  they  mocked  Him  in  His  dying  agonies,  He  could 
say,  ''Father,  forgive  them;  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

He  excelled  as  a  teacher. 

1.  He  was  very  practical  ;  seeking  always  to  bring  men 
to  be  merciful,  as  their  Father  in  Heaven  is  merciful. 

2.  He  was  very  plain ;  using  the  simplest  forms  of 
speech,  and  the  most  natural  and  touching  illustrations. 

3.  He  presented  truth  and  duty  in  His  parables  in  the 
most  impressive  forms. 

4.  His  doctrines  about  God  and  providence,  about  duty 
and  immortality,  about  right  worship  and  the  proper  em- 
ployment of  the  Sabbath  ;  about  true  greatness,  and  the 
forgiveness  of  injuries;  about  gentleness  and  toleration; 
about  meekness  and  humility  ;  about  purity  and  sincerity, 
as  well  as  on  a  great  variety  of  other  subjects,  were  the 
perfection  of  true  philosophy.     His  parable  of  the  talents. 


436  THE   BEST  OF   TEACHERS. 

His  remarks  on  the  widow  and  her  two  mites,  and  on  the 
woman  and  the  box  of  ointment,  showing  that  nothing 
is  required  of  us  beyond  our  powers  and  opportunities,  are 
striking,  instructive,  and  impressive  in  the  highest  degree. 

5.  He  made  it  the  duty  of  all  whom  He  taught  to  in- 
struct others.  His  words,  "  Freely  ye  have  received,  free- 
ly give ;"  and  the  sentence,  "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give 
than  to  receive,"  are  among  the  divinest  oracles  ever  heard 
on  earth. 

6.  He  illustrated  and  enforced  all  His  lessons  by  a  con- 
sistent example.     He  practised  what  He  taught. 

7.  And  He  commanded  His  disciples  to  do  the  same. 
"Let  your  light  so  shine  before  men,  that  they  may  see 
your  good  works,  and  glorify  your  Father  which  is  in 
heaven." 

8.  There  can  be  nothing  juster  or  kinder  than  His  great 
rule,  "  All  things  whatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should  do 
unto  you,  do  ye  even  so  unto  them." 

9.  His  doctrine  that  God  will  treat  men  as  they  treat 
each  other,  is  most  striking  and  important.  "  Blessed  are 
the  merciful,  for  they  shall  obtain  mercy."  "  Witli  what 
judgment  ye  judge  ye  sliall  be  judged  ;  and  with  what 
measure  ye  mete,  it  shall  be  measured  to  you  again."  "  If 
ye  forgive  men  their  trespasses,  your  heavenly  Father  will 
forgive  you  your  trespasses ;  but  if  ye  forgive  not  men 
their  trespasses,  neither  will  your  heavenly  Father  forgive 
you  your  trespasses." 

10.  His  remarks  on  riches  and  poverty,  on  honor  and  re- 
proach, on  suffering  and  glory,  though  regarded  by  some 
with  shyness  and  distrust,  contain  a  world  of  important 
truth. 

11.  His  lessons  on  spiritual  or  religious  freedom,  on 
self-denial,  on  the  true  mark  of  discipleship,  on  the  great 
judgment,  on  the  future  of  Christianity,  and  on  the  hea- 
venly felicity,  are  all  remarkable  for  their  wisdom,  and  for 
their  purifying  and  ennobling  tendency. 

But  it  would  require  volumes  to  do  Christ  and  His  doc- 
trine justice.  And  I  feel  as  if  I  were  wronging  the  Sa- 
viour to  speak  of  His  wortli  and  doctrine,  when  I  have 
neither  time  nor  space  duly  to  set  forth  their  transcendent 
excellency.     Every  peculiar  trait  in  His  character  that  I 


HAPPINESS   OF   EELIGION.  437 

have  named,  deserves  a  treatise  to  present  it  in  all  its  im- 
portance and  glory ;  and  I,  alas,  can  give  but  a  sentence 

or  two  to  each.*  '■  •     i  i 

But  Christ  has  our  devoutest  love  and  gratitude,  and 
our  profoundest  reverence.  And  the  more  we  contem- 
plate Him,  the  more  constrained  we  feel  to  regard  Him, 
not  only  as  the  perfection  of  all  human  excellence,  but  as 
the  revelation  and  incarnation  of  the  eternal  God.  And 
we  feel  it  a  great  honor  and  unspeakable  privilege  to  be 
permitted  to  bear  His  name,  to  belong  to  His  party,  and  to 
labor  in  His  cause.  We  are  indebted  to  Him  for  every- 
thing that  gives  value  to  our  existence,  and  we  give  Him, 
in  return,  with  cheerfulness  and  gladness,  our  heart,  our 
life,  our  all. 

Ah,  why  did  I  so  late  Thee  know. 
Thee,  lovelier  than  the  sons  of  men  ? 

Ah,  why  did  I  no  sooner, go 

To  Thee,  the  only  ease  in  pain  ? 

Ashamed  I  sigh,  and  inly  mourn 

That  I  so  late  to  Thee  did  turn. 

CONCLUDING    EEMAEKS. 

1.  While  the  tendency  of  infidelity  is  to  make  men  miser- 
able, it  is  the  tendency  of  Christianity  to  make  men  happy. 
When  I  was  living  at  Burnley,  an  infidel  came  to  me  one- 
morning  and  said,  "  Barker,  we  may  say  what  we  will,  but 
those  Ranters,  (meaning  the  Primitive  Methodists)  are  the 
happiest  men  alive.  There  is  one  lives  next  to  me,  and  he 
sings  all  the  day  long.  He  gets  up  singing  and  goes  to 
l)ed  sino-ing."  They  are  the  happiest  men  alive.  And 
real  Christians  of  all  denominations  are  happy. 

2.  Some  time  after  my  return  to  Christianity,  I  spent  a 
few  days  in  the  house  of  a  Primitive  Methodist,  a  farmer,  on 
the  Cheshire  Hills.  I  seemed  in  Paradise.  The  master 
and  the  mistress  were  cheerful  and  kind,  and  the  daughters 
and  girls  were  almost  continually  singing  delightful  Chris- 
tian melodies  while  busy  at  their  work.  One  moment  they 

*  Since  the  above  was  written  we  have  published  a  book  entitled  Jesus  :  A 
Portrait.    Look  at  it. 


438  MY  OWN  EXPERIENCE. 

were  singing  of  a  Beautiful  Stream,  and  then  of  a 
Happy  Land.  One  would  begin,  "  Jesus,  Lover  of  my 
soul" — and  when  that  was  finished,  another  would  begin 
with,  "  When  I  can  read  my  title  clear,  to  mansions  in  the 
skies," — and  the  singing  and  the  work  went  on  together 
all  the  day.  It  was  heaven.  And  a  thousand  such  facts 
might  be  given. 

3.  My  own  experience  is  in  harmony  with  these  facts. 
My  return  to  Christ  made  me  happy  beyond  measure.     It 
brought  me  enjoyments,  transports,  to  which,  for  years,  I 
had  been  an  utter  stranger.  The  fact  is,  for  a  long  time  the 
worth  of  my  life  was  well-nigh  gone.  I  lived,  because  I  felt 
I  ought  to  live,  for  the  sake  of  those  who  were  dear  to  me. 
But  for  myself,  the  light  and  joy  of  my  life  seemed  gone 
for  ever.     My  existence  was  a  long  dark  struggle  with 
crushing  destiny.     Though  naturally  hopeful,  I  was  made 
to  feel  the  bitterness  of  blank  despair.     I  had  moments 
of  relief,  but  I   had  weeks  of  gloom  and  despondency. 
Now  all  is  changed.     I  have  moments  of  sadness  and  de- 
pression ;  but  weeks  and  months  of  joy  and  gladness.     I 
see  the  universe  in  an  entirely  different  light.     And  instead 
of  murmuring  at  Nature  as  cruel,  I  adore  a  gracious  and 
merciful  God.     Of  my  errors  and  misdoings  I  must  always 
feel  ashamed,  and  a  consciousness  of  them  must  for  ever 
tend  to  make  me  sad  at  times ;  yet  notwithstanding  all  draw- 
backs, I  have  enjoyed  more  satisfaction,  more  real  happi- 
ness, a  hundred  times  over,  during  the  last  twelve  months, 
than  I  enjoyed  during  the  whole  period  of  my  alienation 
from  God.     The  simple-hearted  Christian  knows  what  he 
says,  when  he  tells  you  '  There's  something  in  religion." 
It  has  a  power  and  a  blessedness  altogether  different  from 
anything  else  under  heaven.     Knowledge  is  sweet,  and 
love  is  sweet,  and  power  and  victory  are  sweet ;  but  reli- 
gion— the  religion  of  Christ  —is  sweeter,  infinitely  sweeter 
than  all.     It  is  the  life  and  blessedness  of  the  soul.     It  is 
its  greatness,  its  strength,  its  glory :  its  joy,  its  paradise, 
its  heaven. 

4.  If  the  cliurches  abound  with  defects,  tlie  cause  is  in 
humanity,  and  not  in  Christianity.  Men  are  not  imperfect 
because  they  are  Christians,  but  because  they  are  not 
Christian  enough.     The  worst  men  are  the  farthest  from 


Christ's  influence  on  the  world.         439 

Christianity,  and  the  best  are  nearest  to  it.  And  the  worst 
creeds  are  the  least  Christian,  and  the  best  are  the  most 
Christian.  And  Christianity  is  better  than  the  best. 
There  is  not  a  virtue  on  earth,  nor  a  truth  in  the  universe, 
which  does  not  form  a  part,  or  a  consistent  and  fitting  ap- 
pendage, of  the  Christian  system.  The  best,  the  wisest, 
the  noblest  man  on  earth  is  no  better,  no  wiser,  no  nobler, 
than  the  teachings  of  Jesus  tend  to  make  the  whole  human 
race. 

5.  The  influence  which  Jesus  exerted  on  the  world,  and 
the  influence  which  He  is  still  exerting,  is  the  mightiest 
and  most  beneficent  ever  experienced  by  mankind ;  and  the 
monument  which  He  has  raised  for  Himself,  the  Christian 
Church,  with  all  its  institutions,  its  literatures,  its  agencies 
and  achievements  is,  beyond  all  comparison,  the  grandest, 
the  noblest,  and  in  all  respects  the  most  magnificent  and 
glorious  that  the  history  of  the  world  can  boast.  He  has 
indeed  gained  for  Himself  a  name  above  every  name ;  a 
glory  and  a  power  which  have  no  equal  and  no  resemblance ; 
and  His  followers  may  well  adore  Him  as  the  brightness 
oC  the  Father's  glory,  and  the  express  image  of  His  love 
and  majesty. 

6.  And  what  can  we  do  better  than  chime  in  with  the 
anthem  of  His  worshippers?  What  can  we  do  better  than 
teach  His  beneficent  doctrines,  and  follow  His  glorious 
example?  Talk  as  we  will,  the  noblest  and  the  happiest 
life  a  man  can  live  is  a  life  of  Christian  love  and  benefi- 
cence. And  the  best  association  on  earth  is  that  which  is 
organized  on  the  principle  of  love  to  Christ,  pledged  to  the 
self-sacrificing  labors  of  a  wise  philanthroisy,  the  work 
of  serving  and  blessing  mankind. 

7.  A  belief  in  Christ  gives  one  a  power  to  do  good  to 
mankind  which  no  skeptic  can  have.  It  kindles  love,  and 
stimulates  to  activity,  as  nothing  else  does.  And  it  inspires 
courage,  and  produces  patience,  and  gives  comfort  under 
persecution.  And  it  lays  on  us  no  unnecessary  restraints.. 
It  leaves  us  free  to  every  good  word  and  to  every  good 
work.  And  it  is  friendly  to  science  and  to  unlimited  pro- 
gress. It  oficrs  a  bond  of  union  for  all  great  minds,  and 
for  all  good  hearts.  It  increases  our  power  to  reform  both 
churches  and  states,  without  urging  us  to  wild  and  revolu- 


440  THINGS   TO   THINK   ABOUT. 

tionary  measures,  which  might  imperil  the  interests  of  both.' 
To  accept  this  religion,  to  avow  this  faith,  involves  nothing 
of  which  we  need  be  ashamed,  but  everything  in  w^hich  we 
may  reasonably  glory.  We  escape  alike  the  follies  of  theo- 
logical dreamers,  and  the  gloom  and  horrors  of  infidel  phi- 
losophy. We  live  amidst  the  soft  mild  glories  of  eternal 
light ;  we  cheer  ourselves  with  the  richest  and  most  glori- 
ous hopes,  and  we  spend  our  lives  in  the  grandest  contem- 
plations and  the  noblest  occupations  the  heart  of  man  caa 
conceive. 

8.  The  vainest  of  all  vain  things,  the  most  unseemly  and 
revolting  of  all  forms  of  pride,  is  the  pride  of  disbelief  in 
God  and  immortality.  And  the  maddest  if  not  the  wick- 
edest of  all  occupations,  is  to  labor  to  destroy  the  faith  and 
blight  the  hopes  of  others.  What  good,  humane,  or  mer- 
ciful motive  can  a  man  have  to  impel  him  to  such  a  hor- 
rible undertaking  ? 

9.  How  soothing  the  thought  that  your  sufferings  are 
marked  by  a  loving  God,  and  will  be  overruled  for  your 
good  !  And  how  cheering  the  thought,  when  life  is  in 
danger,  or  drawing  to  a  close,  that  death  is  the  gate  of  a 
higher  life  !  And  how  comforting  the  thought,  when  your 
loved  ones  are  leaving  you,  that  they  arc  going  before  you 
to  a  happier  home,  and  that  by-and-by  you  will  see  their 
faces,  hear  their  voices,  and  share  their  presence  and  society 
again  !  And  what  a  relief,  when  visiting  the  side,  the  sor- 
rowing, or  the  dying,  to  be  able  to  speak  to  them  of  an  in- 
finite Father,  of  another  life,  and  of  brighter  scenes,  and 
of  a  happier  lot,  in  a  better  land  ! 

10.  We  have  spent  time  enough  among  the  dead. 
And  you  can  see  with  your  own  eyes  which  are  the  living, 
loving,  and  laboring  portions  of  the  Cluirch.  You  can 
see  which  portions  build  the  most  schools,  teach  the  most 
children,  reclaim  the  most  drunkards  and  }>rofligates,  and 
do  most  to  develop  and  cultivate  the  religious  and  moral 
sentiments  of  the  masses.  And  one  of  the  lessons  we  always 
pressed  on  you  was,  to  judge  a  tree  by  its  fruits.  We  do 
not  intend  to  swerve  from  our  plan  of  avoiding  sectarian 
and  theological  controversy  ;  but  we  may  ask  you  to  com- 
pare the  amount  of  good  religious  work  done  by  the  Metho- 
dists in  fifty  years,  with  the  good  done  by  the  so-called 


CHRISTIANITY   WHOLLY    BENEFICIAL.  441 

liberal  Christians,  and  to  draw  your  own  conclusion.  The 
Primitive  Methodists  alone,  with  the  smallest  amount  of 
means,  have  done  incalculably  more  good  in  fifty  years, 
than  the  Unitarians,  with  unlimited  supplies  of  wealth, 
and  all  the  advantages  of  learning  and  position,  have  done 
in  a  hundred  and  fifty  years.  We  have  cast  in  oui'  lot 
with  the  living,  working  portion  of  the  Church.  It  is  our 
liome.  We  had  rather  be  a  doorkeeper  of  the  humblest 
living,  hard-working  church  in  the  land,  than  dwell  with 
the  spiritually  dead  and  cold  in  the  palaces  of  princes.  We 
will  help  the  men  that  are  doing  the  hard  and  needful 
work  of  humanity.  If  you  can  see  such  men  as  the 
Primitive  Methodists  and  the  orthodox  Churches  generally, 
working  as  they  do  work,  and  succeeding  as  they  do  suc- 
ceed, and  not  respect  them  and  love  them,  and  take  part 
in  helping  them,  you  have  not  the  heart  of  tenderness  and 
the  spirit  of  Christian  manliness  for  which  we  have  given 
you  credit. 

11.  The  influence  of  Christianity  cannot  be,otherwise  than 
beneficial ;  nor  is  it  possible  that  Christianity  should  be- 
come the  ruling  power  on  earth  without  greatly  abating, 
if  not  entirely  curing  the  evils  of  humanity,  and  making 
mankind  as  happy  as  their  nature  and  capacities  admit. 

Inaagine  Christianity  to  be  received  and  reduced  to 
practice  by  all  the  people  on  earth,  what  would  be  the  re- 
sult? Disease  would  gradually  diminish.  Nine-tenths 
of  it  ^  would  quickly  disappear ;  and  life  would  be  both 
happier  and  much  longer. 

Along  with  disease  would  go  want,  and  the  fear  of  want. 
All  would  be  well  fed,  well  clad,  well  housed,  and  well 
supplied  with  all  the  necessaries  and  comforts  of  life. 
The  world  is  stored  with  abundance  of  natural  wealth. 
The  surface  of  the  earth  is  vast  enough,  and  its  soil  is 
rich  enough,  to  supply  homes  and  plenty  to  all  its  inhabi- 
tants, if  they  were  fifty  times  as  numerous  as  they  are. 

Three  or  four  hours  a  day  would  be  the  utmost  length 
of  time  that  men  would  need  to  labor.  The  cessation 
of  war  would  set  the  soldiers  free  for  productive  employ- 
ment. The  peaceful  disposition  of  the  people  at  home 
would  allow  the  police  forces  to  devote  themselves  to  useful 
labor.     The  idle  classes  would  set  to  work,  and  the  waste- 


442  ITS   BT.ESSED    EFFECTS   UXBOUNDED. 

ful  classes  would  become  economical.  A  limit  would  be 
fixed  to  the  extravagances  of  fashion.  Things  comely  and 
useful  would  satisfy  the  desires  of  both  men  and  women. 
The  powers  of  nature  would  be  pressed  more  generally 
into  our  service,  and  compelled  to  do  our  drudgery  both 
iu  the  mine  and  on  the  farm.  A  sense  of  justice  would 
dispose  men  to  be  content  with  their  share  of  the  blessings 
of  Providence,  and  Christian  generosity  would  prompt 
the  rich  to  supply  the  wants  of  the  helpless.  The  dangers 
of  useful  toil  would  be  diminished.  The  catalogue 
of  mournful  accidents  in  flood  and  field,  in  mines  and  fac- 
tories, would  be  abridged.  Oppression  would  cease.  The 
wisest  and  best  would  be  our  legislators  and  rulers.  Pa- 
triots, philanthropists,  and  philosophers  would  take  the 
place  of  selfish  politicians.  Political  trickery  would  give 
place  to  honorable  statesmanship.  All  cruel  forms  of  servi- 
tude would  cease.  All  wicked  laws  would  be  abolished. 
All  needless  burdens  would  be  removed  from  the  backs 
of  the  people.  All  would  be  well  taught.  All  dreams 
of  impossible  equality,  and  all  thoughts  of  violent  and 
bloody  revolutions,  would  pass  away.  Vice  and  crime 
would  disappear,  with  all  the  tortures  both  of  mind  and 
body  which  they  occasion.  Commerce  would  flourish.  All 
nations  would  freely  and  lovingly  exchange  their  surplus 
products.  All  classes  Avould  deal  with  each  other  honora- 
bly. Each  one  would  do  to  others  as  he  would  that  others 
should  do  to  him.  No  one  would  suffer  from  fraud,  or  from 
the  fear  of  fraud.  Trade  would  be  a  mutual  exchange 
of  benefits.  Business  would  be  a  pleasant  pastime,  gainful 
to  all,  and  ruinous  to  none. 

Marriage  w.ould  be  universal,  and  would  prove  in  every 
case  a  comfort  and  a  blessing.  The  family  circle  would  be 
the  abode  of  love,  and  peace,  and  joy.  Each  home  would 
be  a  little  heaven.  Children  would  be  wisely  trained  and 
carefully  nurtured  in  knowledge  and  piety.  The  virtues 
and  the  graces  would  adorn  their  lives  from  youth  to  age. 
All  talent  and  skill,  the  powers  of  eloquence  and  of  poetry, 
the  influences  of  music  and  of  song,  and  all  the  powers 
of  art  would  serve  the  cause  of  truth  and  virtue,  of  religion 
and  humanity. 

Superstition  would  die.     Unnatural  conceptions  of  God, 


WITHOUT   IT   ALL   IS     JnSEEABLE.  443 

and  cruel,  wasteful,  and  useless  forms  of  worship,  would 
give  place  to  faith  in  a  God  of  light  and  love,  of  wisdom  and 
of  purity,  and  to  a  spiritual,  rational,  and  rapturous  kind 
of  devotion.  All  ignorant  dread  of  natural  phenomena 
would  give  place  to  joyous  and  loving  admiration,  and  to 
devoutest  adoration,  of  the  great  eternal  Ruler  of  the  world. 
If  calamities  came  they  would  be  accepted  as  divine  ap- 
pointments, as  needful  means  of  everlasting  good.  Death 
would  lose  its  terrors.  Belief  iu  a  blessed  immortality 
would  enable  us  to  pass  from  earth  in  peace  and  joy.  Be- 
reavements would  be  less  distressing.  The  departure  of  our 
friends  would  be  but  a  transition  to  a  better  state  of  being. 
The  v/orld  itself  would  change.  Its  beauties  would  be- 
come more  beautiful ;  its  glories  would  become  more  glo- 
rious, and  all  its  joys  and  pleasures  would  be  more 
transporting.  The  eye,  the  ear,  the  taste,  the  smell  would 
all  become  the  inlets  of  more  and  richer  enjoyments. 
Science  and  literature  in  their  divinest  forms  would  become 
the  common  lot  of  our  race.  The  glory  of  God's  character 
and  the  brightness  of  the  eternal  future,  would  shed  un- 
wonted radiance  over  the  present  life,  and  make  it  rap- 
turous, glorious,  and  divine.  The  religion  of  Christ, 
while  raising  men  to  heaven,  would  bring  down  heaven  to 
earth. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  want  of  trust  in  God  and  of  a 
hope  of  immortality  tends  to  darken  earth,  and  to  embitter 
life.  When  men  are  severed  from  God  and  Christ,  they 
suffer  loss  both  in  character  and  enjoyment.  We  can  speak 
from  experience.  We  never  ruined  our  health  by  vicious 
indulgence.  We  never  became  the  slave  of  intemperance 
or  licentiousness.  We  never  dishonored  our  family,  or 
lost  the  love  and  confidence  of  our  wife  and  children. '  But 
we  lost  our  trust  in  God,  and  our  hope  of  immortality. 
And  the  heavens  above  grew  dark,  and  the  earth  became  a 
desolation.  Life  lost  its  value,  and  sorrow  its  consolation  ; 
and  many  and  many  a  time  we  wished  that  ^xe  had  never 
been  born.  For  hours  have  we  trod  the  earth  with  heavy 
heart  and  downcast  eyes,  groaning  beneath  a  weigiit  of  sad- 
ness indescribable.  Loss  of  faith  in  Christ,  even  with  men 
of  a  naturally  cheerful  and  hopeful  spirit,  renders  life  a 
burden^  too  heavy  to  be  borne.     Hence  for  years  before  we 


444       YOU  CANNOT  EXAGGERATE  HERE. 

fully  regained  our  own  faith  in  Christianity,  we  encour- 
aged others  to  clierish  theirs.  An  infidel  once  said,  that 
the  Christian's  hope,  if  false,  was  worth  all  this  world's 
best  truths  ;  and  we  felt  the  truth  of  the  remark,  and 
shrank  from  attempts  to  take  from  men  the  inestimable 
treasure.  And  now  we  would  rather  die  than  shake  or 
undermine  the  faith  of  any  Christian  soul  on  earth.  To 
the  work  of  cherishing  a  belief  in  Christ  in  our  own  heart, 
and  nurturing  it  in  the  hearts  of  others,  we  consecrate  our 
life,  our  all.  We  would  rather  live  on  a  crust,  in  a  mud 
hut,  with  faith  in  God  and  Christ,  than  feast  on  all  the 
dainties  of  the  earth,  in  the  palace  of  a  king,  with  the  hope- 
lessness and  gloom  of  the  Atheist. 

We  have  no  disposition  to  exaggerate ;  but  we  are  con- 
strained to  say,  that  if  all  the  wisdom  and  all  the  virtue  on 
earth  had  dwelt  in  one  man,  and  if  that  one  man  had  pre- 
sented a  revelation  of  God  with  a  view  to  supply  the 
strongest,  the  mightiest,  the  most  touching,  the  most  tender, 
the  most  varied,  and  the  most  irresistible  inducements  to 
renounce  all  selfishness  and  sin,  and  to  live  a  pure  and 
godly,  a  holy  and  a  useful,  a  divine  and  glorious  life,  that 
revelation  could  have  assumed  no  better,  no  more  perfect 
or  effective  form,  than  that  which  is  presented  in  the  reve- 
lation of  God  by  Jesus  Christ.  We  feel,  while  we  con- 
template it,  that  it  can  have  no  fitter  or  truer  name  than 
that  bestowed  on  it  by  the  Apostles,  '  The  power  of  God 
to  salvation  to  every  one  that  belie veth.'  And  we  are  re- 
minded of  the  words,  '  We  all,  with  open  face  beholding 
as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  are  changed  into  the 
same  image  from  glory  to  glory,  as  by  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord.' 

Of  course  the  destruction  of  this  belief  can  operate  no 
otherwise  than  as  an  encouragement  to  evil,  and  a  dis- 
couragement to  good.  The  loss  of  Christian  belief  in  God 
can  be  to  the  virtues  and  the  graces  of  the  heart  and  life, 
but  as  a  blight  to  plants  and  flowers.  The  Christian  be- 
lief makes  it  summer  to  the  soul,  giving  birth,  and  power, 
and  full  development  to  all  that  is  godlike  and  glorious  in 
human  character.  The  loss  of  that  belief  is  winter  to  the 
soul^  killing  with  its  frosts  each  form  of  life  and  beauty, 
and  making  all  a  waste  and  desolation. 


PRODUCES  THE   GRANDEST   DEEDS.  445 

There  have  been  three  great  disbelievers  in  God  in  our 
own  country  during  the  present  century^,  all  of  whom  have 
written  books  denouncing  marriage,  and  counselling  un- 
bounded sensual  license.  If  their  counsels  were  generally 
taken,  the  result  would  be  a  state  of  society  as  horrible  as 
that  portrayed  in  the  beginning  of  Paul's  Epistle  to  the 
Romans,  and  a  return  to  taith  in  God  alone  could  save  the 
race  of  man  from  utter  extinction.  But  we  will  not  dwell 
on  this  dreadful  side  of  the  subject.  We  know  tlie  effects 
of  the  light  and  warmth  of  the  sun ;  and  we  may  safely  be 
left  to  infer  the  horror,  the  misery,  the  world-wide  ruin, 
and  the  utter  dreariness  and  desolation  that  would  follow 
if  the'  orb  of  day  were  extinguished,  or  for  ever  and  utterly 
withdrawn.  Religion  is  the  sun  of  the  spiritual  world ; 
it  is  its  light  and  life,  its  joy  and  blessedness;  and  its  ex- 
tinction would  be  the  death  and  destruction  of  our  race. 

While  belief  in  God  is  favorable  to  virtue  generally, 
it  tends  also  to  produce  displays  of  superior  excellence; 
of  unusual  courage,  perseverance,  and  endurance.  The  be- 
liever in  God  may  brave  the  most  appalling  dangers.  His 
feeling  is,  that  he  who  is  for  him  is  greater  than  all  that 
can  be  against  him.  It  is  no  vain  boast  in  him  to  say, 
'  I  fear  God,  and  know  no  other  fear.'  It  is  natural  that 
he  should  say,  when  threatened  by  mistaken  or  malignant 
men,  *  You  may  kill  me,  but  you  cannot  hurt  me.'  The 
Christian  believer  can  afford  to  be  a  martyr.  When  ex- 
cited by  ungodly  or  inhuman  opposition,  he  naturally  dis- 
plays the  martyr's  courage.  He  can  bear  too  to  suffer 
disrepute.  He  can  trust  his  reputation  to  his  omniscient 
and  almighty  Friend.  He  can  bear  to  look  with  pa- 
tience both  on  the  adversity  of  the  good,  and  the  prosperity 
of  the  bad.  He  knows  the  fate, — he  sees  the  end, — 
of  both.  The  Judge  of  all  the  earth  will  do  right.  He 
knows  no  evil  but  sin.  He  knows  no  security  but  right- 
eousness. 

And  Christian  faith  is  a  fountain  of  all  conceivable  com- 
fort. It  is  a  comfort  to  feel  secure.  It  is  a  comfort  to 
feel  strong.  It  is  a  comfort  to  feel  assured  that  we  are  be- 
loved of  God.  It  is  a  comfort  to  feel  that  we  love  Him  in 
return.  It  is  a  comfort  to  believe  that  the  universe  has  a 
Head,  a  Lord,  a  Ruler.     It  is  a  comfort  to  believe  that  we 


446  IT   IS   THE   GREAT   CONSOLER. 

are  not  orphans,  fatherless  inhabitants  of  a  Godless  world. 
There  is  pleasure  in  admiration  and  reverence.  There  is 
pleasure  in  feelings  of  gratitude.  There  is  a  pleasure  in 
tracing  the  wonders  and  beauties  of  creation  to  a  living, 
loving  Creator.  It  adds  to  the  pleasure  of  science  to  be- 
lieve, that  behind  the  wonderful  phenomena  which  we  be- 
hold, there  is  a  Great  Unseen  from  whose  all-loving  heart 
they  all  proceed.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  believe  that  our  ways 
are  ordered  by  infinite  wisdom.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  believe 
that  our  sorrows  are  known  to  an  almighty  sym])athizing 
Friend.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  believe  that  our  kindred  and 
friends  have  a  helper  greater  than  ourselves.  It  is  a  plea- 
sure to  believe  that  our  lot  is  appointed  by  an  infinite  Fa- 
ther ;  that  we  shall  not  be  permitted  to  be  tried  beyond  our 
strength ;  that  in  every  temptation  a  way  will  be  made  for 
our  escape;  that  nothing  can  harm  us,  however  painful; 
that  nothing  can  destroy  us,  however  terrible;  that  all 
things  work  together  for  our  good.  In  short,  there  is  no 
end  to  the  strength  which  a  Christian  belief  in  God  is 
calculated  to  give  to  our  virtue,  or  to  the  consolation  which 
it  is  calculated  to  impart  to  our  souls. 

But  what  can  be  sadder  than  to  be  without  God,  and 
without  hope,  in  a  world  like  this?  With  all  our  science 
how  little  we  know !  How  terrible  the  thought  that  we 
have  no  unerring  guide !  With  all  our  powers  how  feeble 
we  are !  How  terrible  the  thought  that  we  have  no  al- 
mighty friend  !  And  vast  and  numberless  as  are  the  pro- 
visions that  are  made  for  our  happiness,  how  often  we  are 
thwarted,  how  prone  we  are,  even  in  the  midst  of  plenty,  to 
be  dissatisfied  ;  and  how  soon  we  may  perish  !  And  how 
sad  the  thought  that  there  is  no  restorer !  Is  it  strange 
that,  when  faith  in  God  is  lost,  the  value  of  life  is  felt  to 
be  gone? 

We  have  no  harsh  word  for  the  doubter  or  the  disbe- 
liever, but  we  raise  our  warning  voice  against  the  dangers 
which  beset  the  way  of  youth,  and  counsel  all  to  consider 
well  their  steps.  '  There  are  ways  which  at  times  seem 
right  unto  men,  but  the  end  thereof  is  death.'  '  The  fear 
of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  w^isdom,  and  to  depart 
from  evil  is  understanding.'  Science  has  advanced ;  arts 
have  multiplied ;  governments  have  changed ;  and  many 


THE   CHRISTIAN   TO   INHERIT  ALL   THINGS.        447 

are  tempted  to  believe  that  the  principles  of  religion  and 
virtue  are  exploded.  But  woe  to  the  man  that  yields  to 
the  temptation.  His  days  shall  be  da'iivened  with  grief, 
and  his  heart  distracted  with  horror.  But  peace  and  pu- 
rity and  joy  shall  be  the  lot  of  the  faithful  Christian.  The 
light  of  life  shall  shine  upon  his  path.  The  wisdom  of  the 
Holy  One  shall  be  his  guide;  and,  living  and  dying,  he 
shall  be  secure. 

12.  The  Christian  has  the  highest,  the  happiest  employ- 
ment. He  works  in  the  spirit  of  eternal  love.  He  works 
for  the  highest  and  the  holiest  ends.  And  he  works  in 
hope.  He  sees  tlie  harvest  in  the  ploughing  of  the  field, 
the  coming  crop  in  the  scattered  seed.  The  result  of  his 
labors  may  come  slowly,  but  he  can  afford  to  wait.  The 
Lord  reigneth;  and  the  plans  of  His  eternal  love  can 
never  fail. 

And  all  things  rich  and  beautiful  are  his.  The  earth 
and  its  fulness  are  his.  The  heavens  and  their  glories  are 
his.  All  sights  of  beauty,  all  sounds  of  melody,  all  emo- 
tions of  wonder,  all  transports  of  delight  arc  his.  There 
are  no  forms,  no  elements  of  bliss  from  which  he  is  ex- 
cluded. All  the  innocent  pleasures  of  sense,  all  that  can 
delight  the  soul  through  the  eye,  the  ear,  the  taste,  or  the 
feelings ;  all  that  is  rich  in  art ;  all  that  is  rapturous  in 
song  ;  all  the  pleasures  of  science  and  literature,  all  are  his. 

And  all  earth's  blessings,  all  pure  and  harmless  plea- 
sures, he  can  enjoy  more  truly  and  more  fully  than  other 
men.  While  his  faith  in  God  gives  greater  beauty  and 
glory  to  the  universe,  his  hope  of  immortality  gives  greater 
sweetness  to  his  earthly  life.  The  brightness  of  the  eter- 
nal world  throws  a  celestial  radiance  over  the  present,  and 
gives  to  earth  a  portion  of  the  blessedness  of  heaven. 

A    FEW   TESTIMONIES   OF    GREAT   MEN   IN  ^AVOR   OF 
CHRISTIANITY. 

We  live  in  the  midst  of  blessings,  till  we  are  utterly  in- 
sensible of  their  greatness,  and  of  the  source  from  which 
they  flow.  We  speak  of  our  civilization,  our  arts,  our 
freedom,  our  laws,  and  forget  entirely  how  large  a  share 
of  all  is  due  to  Christianity. —  Coleridge. 


448  TESTIMONIES   OF   GREAT   MEN. 

There  never  was  found  in  any  age  of  the  world,  either 
philosopher  or  sect,  or  law  or  discipline,  which  did  so 
highly  exalt  the  public  good  as  the  Christian  faith. — Bacon. 

As  the  man  of  pleasure,  by  a  vain  attemjjt  to  be  more 
happy  than  any  man  can  be,  is  often  more  miserable  than 
most  men  are;  so  the  skeptic,  in  a  vain  attempt  to  be  wise 
beyond  what  is  permitted  to  man,  plunges  into  a  darkness 
more  deplorable  than  that  of  the  common  herd. —  Colton. 

Since  the  introduction  of  Christianity,  human  nature  has 
made  great  progress ;  but  it  has  not  got  in  advance  of  Chris- 
tianity. Men  have  outgrown  other  institutions  and  sys- 
tems, but  they  may  grow  for  ever  and  not  outgrow  Chris- 
tianity.— Channing. 

I  have  lived  long  enough  to  know  what  I  did  not  at 
one  time  believe — that  no  society  can  be  upheld  in  hap- 
piness and  honor  without  the  sentiment  of  religion. — La 
Place. 

It  is  heaven  on  earth  to  have  one's  mind  to  move  in 
charity,  to  rest  on  Providence,  and  follow  truth. — Bacon. 

Of  all  the  dispositions  and  habits  Avhich  lead  to  political 
prosperity,  religion  and  morality  are  most  essential.  In 
vain  would  that  man  claim  the  tribute  of  patriotism,  who 
should  labor  to  destroy  those  great  pillars  of  human  hap- 
piness ;  these  firmest  props  of  virtue.  And  let  us  not  sup- 
pose that  morality  can  be  maintained  without  religion. 
Whatever  may  be  conceded  to  the  influence  of  refined  edu- 
cation on  minds  of  peculiar  structure,  reason  and  expe- 
rience both  forbid  us  to  expect  national  morality  to  pre- 
vail in  the  absence  of  religious  principle. —  Washington. 

I  have  carefully  and  regularly  perused  these  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, and  am  of  opinion,  that  the  volume,  independently 
of  its  divine  origin,  contains  more  sublimity,  purer  moral- 
ity, more  important  history,  and  finer  strains  of  eloquence, 
than  can  be.  collected  from  all  other  books,  in  whatever 
language  they  may  have  been  written. — Sir  William  Jones. 


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